"Now, is it not a horrible reflection," said my guardian, to whom I had hastily explained the unavailing efforts of the two women, "is it not a horrible reflection," walking up and down and rumpling his hair, "that if this wretched creature were a convicted prisoner, his hospital would be wide open to him, and he would be as well taken care of as any sick boy in the kingdom?"
"My dear Jarndyce," returned Mr. Skimpole, "you'll pardon the simplicity of the question, coming as it does from a creature who is perfectly simple in worldly matters, but why ISN'T he a prisoner then?"
My guardian stopped and looked at him with a whimsical mixture of amusement and indignation in his face.
"Our young friend is not to be suspected of any delicacy, I should imagine," said Mr. Skimpole, unabashed and candid. "It seems to me that it would be wiser, as well as in a certain kind of way more respectable, if he showed some misdirected energy that got him into prison. There would be more of an adventurous spirit in it, and consequently more of a certain sort of poetry."
"I believe," returned my guardian, resuming his uneasy walk, "that there is not such another child on earth as yourself."

"Now, is it not a horrible reflection," said my guardian, walking up and down and rumpling his hair, "that if this wretched creature were a prisoner, he would be as well taken care of as any sick boy in the kingdom?"
"My dear Jarndyce," returned Mr. Skimpole, "you'll pardon the simplicity of the question, coming from a simple child, but why isn't he a prisoner then? It seems to me that it would be wiser if he showed some misdirected energy that got him into prison. There would be more of an adventurous spirit in it, and a certain sort of poetry."
"I believe," returned my guardian, resuming his uneasy walk, "that there is not such another child on earth as yourself."
