Identifier: bleakhouse00dick (find matches)
Title: Bleak house
Year: 1895 (1890s)
Authors: Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870 Dickens, Charles, 1837-1896, ed Browne, Hablot Knight, 1815-1882, illus
Subjects: Young women Guardian and ward Illegitimate children Inheritance and succession
Publisher: New York, London, Macmillan and co.
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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evail withher if she is alive. Let me come up with her alone —a harder mat-ter — and Ill do my best; but I dont answer for what the bestmay be. Time flies ; its getting on for one oclock. When onestrikes, theres another hour gone ; and its worth a thousand pound,now, instead of a hundred. This is all true, and the pressing nature of the case cannot bequestioned. Mr. Jarndyce begs him to remain tliere, while he speaksto Miss Summerson. Mr. Bucket says he will; but, acting on hisusual principle, does no such thing — following up-stairs instead,and keeping his man in sight. So he remains, dodging and lurkingabout in the gloom of the staircase, while they confer. In a verylittle time, Mr. Jarndyce comes down, and tells him that MissSummerson will join him directly, and place herself under his pro-tection, to accompany him where he pleases. Mr. Bucket, satis-fied, expresses high approval; and awaits her coming, at the door.There, he mounts a high tower in his mind, and looks out, far
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712 BLEAK HOUSE. and wide. Many solitary figures he perceives, creeping through thestreets; many sohtary figures out on heaths, and roads, and lyingunder haystacks. But the figure that he seeks is not among them.Other solitaries he perceives, in nooks of bridges, looking over; and in shadowed places down by the rivers level; and a dark, dark,shapeless object drifting with the tide, more solitary than all, clingswitli a drowning hold on his attention. • Where is she ? Living or dead, where is she ? If, as he foldsthe handkerchief and carefully puts it up, it were able, with anenchanted power, to bring before him the place where she found it,and the night landscape near the cottage where it covered the littlechild, would he descry her there 1 On the waste, where the brick-kilns are burning with a pale blue flare; where the straw-roofs ofthe wretched huts in which the bricks are made, are being scatteredby the wind; where the clay and water are hard frozen, and themill in which the gau

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