another. Just as you yourself might. Just as anybody might.«
    »Precisely so,« said Clennam. »Well?«
    »And when I do think of one thing and do think of another,« pursued Mrs.
Tickit, »I hardly need to tell you, Mr. Clennam, that I think of the family.
Because, dear me! a person's thoughts,« Mrs. Tickit said this with an
argumentative and philosophic air, »however they may stray, will go more or less
on what is uppermost in their minds. They will do it, sir, and a person can't
prevent them.«
    Arthur subscribed to this discovery with a nod.
    »You find it so yourself, sir, I'll be bold to say,« said Mrs. Tickit, »and
we all find it so. It an't our stations in life that changes us, Mr. Clennam;
thoughts is free! - As I was saying, I was thinking of one thing and thinking of
another, and thinking very much of the family. Not of the family in the present
times only, but in the past times too. For when a person does begin thinking of
one thing and thinking of another, in that manner as it's getting dark, what I
say is, that all times seem to be present, and a person must get out of that
state and consider before they can say which is which.«
    He nodded again; afraid to utter a word, lest it should present any new
opening to Mrs. Tickit's conversational powers.
    »In consequence of which,« said Mrs. Tickit, »when I quivered my eyes and
saw her actual form and figure looking in at the gate, I let them close again
without so much as starting, for that actual form and figure came so pat to the
time when it belonged to the house as much as mine or your own, that I never
thought at the moment of its having gone away. But, sir, when I quivered my eyes
again, and saw that it wasn't there, then it all flooded upon me with a fright,
and I jumped up.«
    »You ran out directly?« said Clennam.
    »I ran out,« assented Mrs. Tickit, »as fast as ever my feet would carry me;
and if you'll credit it, Mr. Clennam, there wasn't in the whole shining Heavens,
no not so much as a finger of that young woman.«
    Passing over the absence