"Where is this missing man? Have you come to give us information where he is? I hope you have." "So far from it, I—hum, have come to seek information." . . . "Unfortunately for us, there is none to be got here. Flintwinch, show the gentleman the hand-bill. Give him several to take away. Hold the light for him to read it"—Book 2, chap. xvii.
The sun had gone down full four hours, and it was later than most travellers would like it to be for finding themselves outside the walls of Rome, when Mr. Dorrit's carriage, still on its last wearisome stage, rattled over the solitary campagna—Book 2, chap. xix.
As each of the two handsome faces looked at each other, Clennam felt how each of the two natures must be constantly tearing the other to pieces—Book 2, chap. xx.
One figure reposed upon the bed, the other kneeling on the floor, drooped over it the arms easily and peacefully resting on the coverlet; . . . the two brothers were before their Father; far beyond the twilight judgments of this world; high above its mists and obscurities—Book 2, chap. xix.