“Don’t be severe upon me in my misfortunes, Mrs. Bagnet,” said the trooper lightly.

“Oh!  Bother your misfortunes,” cried Mrs. Bagnet, “if they don’t make you more reasonable than that comes to.  I never was so ashamed in my life to hear a man talk folly as I have been to hear you talk this day to the present company.  Lawyers?  Why, what but too many cooks should hinder you from having a dozen lawyers if the gentleman recommended them to you.”

“This is a very sensible woman,” said my guardian.  “I hope you will persuade him, Mrs. Bagnet.”

“Persuade him, sir?” she returned.  “Lord bless you, no.  You don’t know George.  Now, there!” Mrs. Bagnet left her basket to point him out with both her bare brown hands.  “There he stands!  As self-willed and as determined a man, in the wrong way, as ever put a human creature under heaven out of patience!  You could as soon take up and shoulder an eight and forty pounder by your own strength as turn that man when he has got a thing into his head and fixed it there.  Why, don’t I know him!” cried Mrs. Bagnet.  “Don’t I know you, George!  You don’t mean to set up for a new character with me after all these years, I hope?”

Her friendly indignation had an exemplary effect upon her husband, who shook his head at the trooper several times as a silent recommendation to him to yield.  Between whiles, Mrs. Bagnet looked at me; and I understood from the play of her eyes that she wished me to do something, though I did not comprehend what.

“But I have given up talking to you, old fellow, years and years,” said Mrs. Bagnet as she blew a little dust off the pickled pork, looking at me again; “and when ladies and gentlemen know you as well as I do, they’ll give up talking to you too.  If you are not too headstrong to accept of a bit of dinner, here it is.”

“I accept it with many thanks,” returned the trooper.

“Do you though, indeed?” said Mrs. Bagnet, continuing to grumble on good-humouredly.  “I’m sure I’m surprised at that.  I wonder you don’t starve in your own way also.  It would only be like you.  Perhaps you’ll set your mind upon that next.”  Here she again looked at me, and I now perceived from her glances at the door and at me, by turns, that she wished us to retire and to await her following us outside the prison.  Communicating this by similar means to my guardian and Mr. Woodcourt, I rose.

“We hope you will think better of it, Mr. George,” said I, “and we shall come to see you again, trusting to find you more reasonable.”

“More grateful, Miss Summerson, you can’t find me,” he returned.

“But more persuadable we can, I hope,” said I.  “And let me entreat you to consider that the clearing up of this mystery and the discovery of the real perpetrator of this deed may be of the last importance to others besides yourself.”

He heard me respectfully but without much heeding these words, which I spoke a little turned from him, already on my way to the door; he was observing (this they afterwards told me) my height and figure, which seemed to catch his attention all at once.