'This is the Marshalsea, sir.' 'The debtors' prison ?' 'Sir,' said the old man, with the air of deeming it not quite necessary to insist upon that designation, 'the debtors' prison.' He turned himself about, and went on.
'I beg your pardon,' said Arthur, stopping him once more, 'but will you allow me to ask you another question?
Can any one go in here ?' 'Any one can go IN,' replied the old man; plainly adding by the significance of his emphasis, 'but it is not every one who can go out.' 'Pardon me once more.

Are you familiar with the place ?' 'Sir,' returned the old man, squeezing his little packet of snuff in his hand, and turning upon his interrogator as if such questions hurt him.
'I am.' 'I beg you to excuse me.

I am not impertinently curious, but have a good object.

Do you know the name of Dorrit here ?' 'My name, sir,' replied the old man most unexpectedly, 'is Dorrit.' Arthur pulled off his hat to him.

'Grant me the favour of half-a-dozen words.