And now, Mr Clennam, perhaps I may ask you whether you have yet come to a decision where to go next ?' 'Indeed, no.

I am such a waif and stray everywhere, that I am liable to be drifted where any current may set.' 'It's extraordinary to me--if you'll excuse my freedom in saying so--that you don't go straight to London,' said Mr Meagles, in the tone of a confidential adviser.
'Perhaps I shall.' 'Ay! But I mean with a will.' 'I have no will.

That is to say,'-- he coloured a little,--'next to none that I can put in action now.

Trained by main force; broken, not bent; heavily ironed with an object on which I was never consulted and which was never mine; shipped away to the other end of the world before I was of age, and exiled there until my father's death there, a year ago; always grinding in a mill I always hated; what is to be expected from me in middle life?
Will, purpose, hope?
All those lights were extinguished before I could sound the words.' 'Light 'em up again!' said Mr Meagles.
'Ah! Easily said.

I am the son, Mr Meagles, of a hard father and mother.