'Now, Mr Clennam,' said the uncle, looking back as he shuffled out after them, 'the lock, sir, the lock.' Mr Clennam had two things to do before he followed; one, to offer his testimonial to the Father of the Marshalsea, without giving pain to his child; the other to say something to that child, though it were but a word, in explanation of his having come there.
'Allow me,' said the Father, 'to see you down-stairs.' She had slipped out after the rest, and they were alone.

'Not on any account,' said the visitor, hurriedly.

'Pray allow me to--' chink, chink, chink.
'Mr Clennam,' said the Father, 'I am deeply, deeply--' But his visitor had shut up his hand to stop the clinking, and had gone down-stairs with great speed.
He saw no Little Dorrit on his way down, or in the yard.

The last two or three stragglers were hurrying to the lodge, and he was following, when he caught sight of her in the doorway of the first house from the entrance.

He turned back hastily.
'Pray forgive me,' he said, 'for speaking to you here; pray forgive me for coming here at all! I followed you to-night.