'It is well for me that I never set my heart upon its hollow vanities.' The old influence of her presence and her stern strong voice, so gathered about her son, that he felt conscious of a renewal of the timid chill and reserve of his childhood.
'Do you never leave your room, mother ?' 'What with my rheumatic affection, and what with its attendant debility or nervous weakness--names are of no matter now--I have lost the use of my limbs.

I never leave my room.

I have not been outside this door for--tell him for how long,' she said, speaking over her shoulder.
'A dozen year next Christmas,' returned a cracked voice out of the dimness behind.
'Is that Affery ?' said Arthur, looking towards it.
The cracked voice replied that it was Affery: and an old woman came forward into what doubtful light there was, and kissed her hand once; then subsided again into the dimness.
'I am able,' said Mrs Clennam, with a slight motion of her worsted-muffled right hand toward a chair on wheels, standing before a tall writing cabinet close shut up, 'I am able to attend to my business duties, and I am thankful for the privilege.

It is a great privilege.
But no more of business on this day.

It is a bad night, is it not ?' 'Yes, mother.' 'Does it snow ?' 'Snow, mother?
And we only yet in September ?' 'All seasons are alike to me,' she returned, with a grim kind of luxuriousness.