“A singular world, I would say, sir,” pursued Mrs. Sparsit; after acknowledging the compliment with a drooping of her dark eyebrows, not altogether so mild in its expression as her voice was in its dulcet tones; “as regards the intimacies we form at one time, with individuals we were quite ignorant of, at another. I recall, sir, that on that occasion you went so far as to say you were actually apprehensive of Miss Gradgrind.”

“Your memory does me more honour than my insignificance deserves. I availed myself of your obliging hints to correct my timidity, and it is unnecessary to add that they were perfectly accurate. Mrs. Sparsit’s talent for⁠—in fact for anything requiring accuracy⁠—with a combination of strength of mind⁠—and family⁠—is too habitually developed to admit of any question.” He was almost falling asleep over this compliment; it took him so long to get through, and his mind wandered so much in the course of its execution.