Afterwards, when Mr. Woodcourt came to reflect on what had passed, he was so very much impressed by the strength of Richard’s anxiety on this point that in telling me generally of his first visit to Symond’s Inn he particularly dwelt upon it.  It revived a fear I had had before that my dear girl’s little property would be absorbed by Mr. Vholes and that Richard’s justification to himself would be sincerely this.  It was just as I began to take care of Caddy that the interview took place, and I now return to the time when Caddy had recovered and the shade was still between me and my darling.

I proposed to Ada that morning that we should go and see Richard.  It a little surprised me to find that she hesitated and was not so radiantly willing as I had expected.

“My dear,” said I, “you have not had any difference with Richard since I have been so much away?”

“No, Esther.”

“Not heard of him, perhaps?” said I.

“Yes, I have heard of him,” said Ada.

Such tears in her eyes, and such love in her face.  I could not make my darling out.  Should I go to Richard’s by myself?  I said.  No, Ada thought I had better not go by myself.  Would she go with me?  Yes, Ada thought she had better go with me.  Should we go now?  Yes, let us go now.  Well, I could not understand my darling, with the tears in her eyes and the love in her face!

We were soon equipped and went out.  It was a sombre day, and drops of chill rain fell at intervals.  It was one of those colourless days when everything looks heavy and harsh.  The houses frowned at us, the dust rose at us, the smoke swooped at us, nothing made any compromise about itself or wore a softened aspect.  I fancied my beautiful girl quite out of place in the rugged streets, and I thought there were more funerals passing along the dismal pavements than I had ever seen before.

We had first to find out Symond’s Inn.  We were going to inquire in a shop when Ada said she thought it was near Chancery Lane.  “We are not likely to be far out, my love, if we go in that direction,” said I. So to Chancery Lane we went, and there, sure enough, we saw it written up.  Symond’s Inn.

We had next to find out the number.  “Or Mr. Vholes’s office will do,” I recollected, “for Mr. Vholes’s office is next door.”  Upon which Ada said, perhaps that was Mr. Vholes’s office in the corner there.  And it really was.

Then came the question, which of the two next doors?  I was going for the one, and my darling was going for the other; and my darling was right again.  So up we went to the second story, when we came to Richard’s name in great white letters on a hearse-like panel.

I should have knocked, but Ada said perhaps we had better turn the handle and go in.  Thus we came to Richard, poring over a table covered with dusty bundles of papers which seemed to me like dusty mirrors reflecting his own mind.  Wherever I looked I saw the ominous words that ran in it repeated.  Jarndyce and Jarndyce.