And yet--feeling
this as I certainly did--it is not to be denied that Ezra Jennings made
some inscrutable appeal to my sympathies, which I found it impossible to
resist. While my knowledge of the world warned me to answer the question
which he had put, acknowledging that I did indeed find Mr. Candy sadly
changed, and then to proceed on my way out of the house--my interest in
Ezra Jennings held me rooted to the place, and gave him the opportunity
of speaking to me in private about his employer, for which he had been
evidently on the watch.
"Are you walking my way, Mr. Jennings?" I said, observing that he held
his hat in his hand. "I am going to call on my aunt, Mrs. Ablewhite."
Ezra Jennings replied that he had a patient to see, and that he was
walking my way.
We left the house together. I observed that the pretty servant girl--who
was all smiles and amiability, when I wished her good morning on my way
out--received a modest little message from Ezra Jennings, relating to
the time at which he might be expected to return, with pursed-up lips,
and with eyes which ostentatiously looked anywhere rather than look in
his face. The poor wretch was evidently no favourite in the house.
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