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'An old acquaintance of mine, sir, an old pensioner. And then said, 'Be covered, my good Nandy; put your hat on, with great consideration.
Be very careful how you descend the stairs, Nandy; they are rather uneven and worn. With that he stood on the landing, watching the old man down: and when he came into the room again, said, with a solemn satisfaction on him, 'A melancholy sight that, Mr Clennam, though one has the consolation of knowing that he doesn't feel it himself. The poor old fellow is a dismal wreck.
He heaved a great sigh. "But how foolish of you, Nandy!" said Miss Sophia, glancing up from the letter. "When you know it's doing you so much good!" "Good?" said Nandy, savage-like. "How would you like it? There now I'm sorry, Miss Sophia. I forgot and now I've made you cry!" "I I sh shan't like it at all," quavered Miss Sophia, blinking away her tears. "And and it's not at all the same thing."
"No," agreed Nandy; "no, o' course not: you ha'n't got no pimples. Oh, Miss Sophia," he went on, speaking very earnest, "would you really like me better if I weren't so speckity?" "Ever so much better, Nandy. You can't think what an improvement it would be." "'Tis only skin-deep," said Nandy. "At the bottom of my heart, miss, I'd die for you. . . . But I can't stand it no longer.
"I beg you won't try," pleaded Aunt Barbree, for this trick of Nandy's always gave her the shivers. "A head like mine was meant for something worthier than civil life. I've been turnin' it over " "Turnin' what over?" "Things in general," said Nandy; "and the upshot is, I've a great mind to 'list for a sojer." "The good Lord forbid!" cried Aunt Barbree.
This he attributed, after much reflection, to his musical genius not having been scientifically developed in his youth. 'For why, argued Mr Plornish, 'why go a-binding music when you've got it in yourself? That's where it is, I consider. Old Nandy had a patron: one patron.
"Is it worse tasted than sulphur-water?" asked Nandy, and with that a wicked thought came into his mind, for he still nursed a spite against all that he had suffered under Dr. Clatworthy's care. "If you can't get taken in at Merry-Garden," said he, "why don't you try Hi-jeen Villa, up the creek?" "What's that?" "It's it's another establishment," said Nandy. "Respectable? You'll excuse my askin' "
'No, no, returned Little Dorrit. 'No, thank you. Give me your arm again, Mr Nandy. We shall soon be there now. So she talked to him as she had talked before, and they came to the Lodge and found Mr Chivery on the lock, and went in. Now, it happened that the Father of the Marshalsea was sauntering towards the Lodge at the moment when they were coming out of it, entering the prison arm in arm.
The doctor made Nandy take off his shirt. "Why," said he, enthusiastic-like, "the boy's a perfect treasure!" "You think so?" said Aunt Barbree, a bit dubious, not quite catching his drift. "A case, ma'am, like this wouldn't yield to fresh fruit, not in ten years. It's throwing away your time.
The most striking of these was perhaps the relishing manner in which he remarked on the pensioner's infirmities and failings, as if he were a gracious Keeper making a running commentary on the decline of the harmless animal he exhibited. 'Not ready for more ham yet, Nandy? Why, how slow you are!
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