BOOK THE THIRD: A LONG LANE
Chapter 17: A Social Chorus (continued)
'My postscript--to retain the term I have used'--says Mrs Lammle,
fixing her eyes on his face, to enforce what she says herself--
'coincides exactly with what you say, Mr Twemlow. So far from
troubling you with any new confidence, I merely wish to remind
you what the old one was. So far from asking you for interference,
I merely wish to claim your strict neutrality.'
Twemlow going on to reply, she rests her eyes again, knowing her
ears to be quite enough for the contents of so weak a vessel.
'I can, I suppose,' says Twemlow, nervously, 'offer no reasonable
objection to hearing anything that you do me the honour to wish to
say to me under those heads. But if I may, with all possible
delicacy and politeness, entreat you not to range beyond them, I--I
beg to do so.'
'Sir,' says Mrs Lammle, raising her eyes to his face again, and
quite daunting him with her hardened manner, 'I imparted to you a
certain piece of knowledge, to be imparted again, as you thought
best, to a certain person.'
'Which I did,' says Twemlow.
'And for doing which, I thank you; though, indeed, I scarcely know
why I turned traitress to my husband in the matter, for the girl is a
poor little fool. I was a poor little fool once myself; I can find no
better reason.' Seeing the effect she produces on him by her
indifferent laugh and cold look, she keeps her eyes upon him as
she proceeds. 'Mr Twemlow, if you should chance to see my
husband, or to see me, or to see both of us, in the favour or
confidence of any one else--whether of our common acquaintance
or not, is of no consequence--you have no right to use against us
the knowledge I intrusted you with, for one special purpose which
has been accomplished. This is what I came to say. It is not a
stipulation; to a gentleman it is simply a reminder.'
Twemlow sits murmuring to himself with his hand to his forehead.
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