’Ihavespokenofhimasstillliving，’sheadded，’buthemayhavebeenputoutofthewayforanythingIknow。ForanythingIcare，also。Ihavenofurtheroccasionforhim。’
Withaheavysighandadespondentair，ArthurClennamslowlyrose。
Shedidnotrisealso，butsaid，havinglookedathiminthemeanwhilewithafixedlookofsuspicion，andlipsangrilycompressed：
’Hewasthechosenassociateofyourdearfriend，MrGowan，washenot？Whydon’tyouaskyourdearfriendtohelpyou？’
ThedenialthathewasadearfriendrosetoArthur’slips；butherepressedit，rememberinghisoldstrugglesandresolutions，andsaid：