The dawn coming, the morning coming, and the day coming,
and neither message nor letter coming with either, he went down to
the country house. There, the report was, Mr. Bounderby away, and
Mrs. Bounderby in town. Left for town suddenly last evening. Not
even known to be gone until receipt of message, importing that her
return was not to be expected for the present.
In these circumstances he had nothing for it but to follow her to
town. He went to the house in town. Mrs. Bounderby not there. He
looked in at the Bank. Mr. Bounderby away and Mrs. Sparsit away.
Mrs. Sparsit away? Who could have been reduced to sudden extremity
for the company of that griffin!
'Well! I don't know,' said Tom, who had his own reasons for being
uneasy about it. 'She was off somewhere at daybreak this morning.
She's always full of mystery; I hate her. So I do that white chap;
he's always got his blinking eyes upon a fellow.'
'Where were you last night, Tom?'
'Where was I last night!' said Tom. 'Come! I like that.
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