Clennam’seyeshadstrayedtoanaturalpictureonthewall，oftwoprettylittlegirlswiththeirarmsentwined。’Yes，Clennam，’saidMrMeagles，inalowervoice。’Theretheybothare。Itwastakensomeseventeenyearsago。AsIoftensaytoMother，theywerebabiesthen。’
’Theirnames？’saidArthur。
’Ah，tobesure!YouhaveneverheardanynamebutPet。Pet’snameisMinnie；hersister’sLillie。’
’Shouldyouhaveknown，MrClennam，thatoneofthemwasmeantforme？’askedPetherself，nowstandinginthedoorway。
’Imighthavethoughtthatbothofthemweremeantforyou，botharestillsolikeyou。Indeed，’saidClennam，glancingfromthefairoriginaltothepictureandback，’Icannotevennowsaywhichisnotyourportrait。’