CHAPTER XI NO WAY OUT

oldthefurniture,pawnedtheclothes,andplayedoldGooseberry.’ ‘Iwerepatientwi’her.’ (‘Themorefoolyou,Ithink,’saidMr.Bounderby,inconfidencetohiswine-glass.) ‘Iwereverypatientwi’her.Itriedtoweanherfra’towerandoweragen.Itriedthis,Itriedthat,Itriedt’other.Iha’gonehome,many’sthetime,andfoundallvanishedasIhadintheworld,andherwithoutasenselefttoblessherselnlyingonbareground.Iha’dun’tnotonce,nottwice—twentytime!’ Everylineinhisfacedeepenedashesaidit,andputinitsaffectingevidenceofthesufferinghehadundergone. ‘Frombadtoworse,fromworsetoworsen.Sheleftme.Shedisgracedherselneveryways,bitterandbad.Shecoomback,shecoomback,shecoomback.WhatcouldIdot’hinderher?Iha’walkedthestreetsnightslong,ereeverI’dgohome.Iha’gonet’th’brigg,mindedtoflingmyselnower,andha’nomoreon’t.Iha’borethatmuch,thatIwereowdwhenIwereyoung.’ Mrs.Sparsit,easilyamblingalongwithhernetting-needles,raisedtheCoriolanianeyebrowsandshookherhead,asmuchastosay,‘Thegreatknowtroubleaswellasthesmall.PleasetoturnyourhumbleeyeinMydirection.’ ‘Iha’paidhertokeepawa’fra’me.ThesefiveyearIha’paidher.Iha’gottendecentfewtrilsaboutmeagen.Iha’livedhardandsad,butnotashamedandfearfo’a’theminnitso’mylife.Lastnight,Iwenthome.Thereshelayuponmyhar-stone!Theresheis!’ Inthestrengthofhismisfortune,andtheenergyofhisdistress,hefiredforthemomentlikeaproudman.Inanothermoment,hestoodashehadstoodallthetime—hisusualstoopuponhimhisponderingfaceaddressedtoMr.Bounderby,withacuriousexpressiononit,halfshrewd,halfperplexed,asifhismindweresetuponunravellingsomethingverydifficulthishatheldtightinhislefthand,whichrestedonhishiphisrightarm,witharuggedproprietyandforceofaction,veryearnestlyemphasizingwhathesaid:notleastsowhenitalwayspaused,alittlebent,butnotwithdrawn,ashepaused. ‘Iwasacquaintedwithallthis,youknow,’saidMr.Bounderby,‘exceptthelastclause,longago.It’sabadjobthat’swhatitis.Youhadbetterhavebeensatisfiedasyouwere,andnothavegotmarried.However,it’stoolatetosaythat.’ ‘Wasitanunequalmarriage,sir,inpointofyears?’askedMrs.Sparsit. ‘Youhearwhatthisladyasks.Wasitanunequalmarriageinpointofyears,thisunluckyjobofyours?’saidMr.Bounderby. ‘Note’enso.Iwereone-and-twentymyselnsheweretwentynighbut.’ ‘Indeed,sir?’saidMrs.SparsittoherChief,withgreatplacidity.‘Iinferred,fromitsbeingsomiserableamarriage,thatitwasprobablyanunequaloneinpointofyears.’ Mr.Bounderbylookedveryhardatthegoodladyinaside-longwaythathadanoddsheepishnessaboutit.Hefortifiedhimselfwithalittlemoresherry. ‘Well?Whydon’tyougoon?’heth