thelast
year
and
a
half
.
Was
anybody
present
related
to
him
?
”
glancing
round
upon
the
three
bystanders
.
“
I
was
his
landlord
,
”
grimly
answers
Krook
,
taking
the
candle
from
the
surgeon
's
outstretched
hand
.
“
He
told
me
once
,
I
was
the
nearest
relation
he
had
.
”
“
He
has
died
,
”
says
the
surgeon
,
“
of
an
over-dose
of
opium
,
there
is
no
doubt
.
The
room
is
strongly
flavored
with
it
.
There
is
enough
here
now
,
”
taking
an
old
teapot
from
Mr.
Krook
,
“
to
kill
a
dozen
people
.
”
“
Do
you
think
he
did
it
on
purpose
?
”
asks
Krook
.
“
Took
the
over-dose
?
”
“
Yes
!
”
Krook
almost
smacks
his
lips
with
the
unction
of
a
horrible
interest
.
“
I
ca
n't
say
.
I
should
think
it
unlikely
,
as
he
has
been
in
the
habit
of
taking
so
much
.
But
nobody
can
tell
.
He
was
very
poor
,
I
suppose
?
”
“
I
suppose
he
was
.
His
room
—
do
n't
look
rich
,
”
says
Krook
;
who
might
have
changed
eyes
with
his
cat
,
as
he
casts
his
sharp
glance
around
.
“
But
I
have
never
been
in
it
since
he
had
it
,
and
he
was
too
close
to
name
his
circumstances
to
me
.
”
“
Did
he
owe
you
any
rent
?
”
“
Six
weeks
.
”
“
He
will
never
pay
it
!
”
says
the
young
man
,
resuming
his
examination
.
“
It
is
beyond
a
doubt
that
he
is
indeed
as
dead
as
Pharaoh
;
and
to
judge
from
his
appearance
and
condition
,
I
should
think
it
a
happy
release
.
Yet
he
must
have
been
a
good
figure
when
a
youth
,
and
I
dare
say
good-looking
.
”
He
says
this
,
not
unfeelingly
,
while
sitting
on
the
bedstead
's
edge
,
with
his
face
towards
that
other
face
,
and
his
hand
upon
the
region
of
the
heart
.
“
I
recollect
once
thinking
there
was
something
in
his
manner
,
uncouth
as
it
was
,
that
denoted
a
fall
in
life
.
Was
that
so
?
”
he
continues
,
looking
round
.
Krook
replies
,
“
You
might
as
well
ask
me
to
describe
the
ladies
whose
heads
of
hair
I
have
got
in
sacks
down
stairs
.
Than
that
he
was
my
lodger
for
a
year
and
a
half
,
and
lived
—
or
did
n't
live
—
by
law-writing
I
know
no
more
of
him
.
”
During
this
dialogue
,
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
has
stood
aloof
by
the
old
portmanteau
,
with
his
hands
behind
him
,
equally
removed
,
to
all
appearance
,
from
all
three
kinds
of
interest
exhibited
near
the
bed
—
from
the
young
surgeon
's
professional
interest
in
death
,
noticeable
as
being
quite
apart
from
his
remarks
on
the
deceased
as
an
individual
;
from
the
old
man
's
unction
;
and
the
little
crazy
woman
's
awe
.
His
imperturbable
face
has
been
as
inexpressive
as
his
rusty
clothes
.
One
could
not
even
say
he
has
been
thinking
all
this
while
.
He
has
shown
neither
patience
nor
impatience
,
nor
attention
nor
abstraction
.
He
has
shown
nothing
but
his
shell
.
As
easily
might
the
tone
of
a
delicate
musical
instrument
be
inferred
from
its
case
,
as
the
tone
of
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
from
his
case
.
He
now
interposes
;
addressing
the
young
surgeon
,
in
his
unmoved
,
professional
way
.
“
I
looked
in
here
,
”
he
observes
,
“
just
before
you
,
with
the
intention
of
giving
this
deceased
man
,
whom
I
never
saw
alive
,
some
employment
at
his
trade
of
copying
.
I
had
heard
of
him
from
my
stationer
—
Snagsby
of
Cook
's
Court
.
Since
no
one
here
knows
anything
about
him
,
it
might
be
as
well
to
send
for
Snagsby
.
Ah
!
”
to
the
little
crazy
woman
,
who
has
often
seen
him
in
Court
,
and
whom
he
has
often
seen
,
and
who
proposes
,
in
frightened
dumb-show
,
to
go
for
the
law
stationer
.
“
Suppose
you
do
!
”
While
she
is
gone
,
the
surgeon
abandons
his
hopeless
investigation
,
and
covers
its
subject
with
the
patchwork
counterpane
.
Mr.
Krook
and
he
interchange
a
word
or
two
.
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
says
nothing
;
but
stands
,
ever
,
near
the
old
portmanteau
.
Mr.
Snagsby
arrives
hastily
,
in
his
grey
coat
and
his
black
sleeves
.
“
Dear
me
,
dear
me
,
”
he
says
;
“
and
it
has
come
to
this
,
has
it
!
Bless
my
soul
!
”
“
Can
you
give
the
person
of
the
house
any
information
about
this
unfortunate
creature
,
Snagsby
?
”
inquires
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
.
“
He
was
in
arrears
with
his
rent
,
it
seems
.
And
he
must
be
buried
,
you
know
.
”
“
Well
,
sir
,
”
says
Mr.
Snagsby
,
coughing
his
apologetic
cough
behind
his
hand
;
“
I
really
do
n't
know
what
advice
I
could
offer
,
except
sending
for
the
beadle
.
”
“
I
do
n't
speak
of
advice
,
”
returns
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
.
“
I
could
advise
—
”
(
“
No
one
better
,
sir
,
I
am
sure
,
”
says
Mr.
Snagsby
,
with
his
deferential
cough
.
)
“
I
speak
of
affording
some
clue
to
his
connexions
,
or
to
where
he
came
from
,
or
to
anything
concerning
him
.
”
“
I
assure
you
,
sir
,
”
says
Mr.
Snagsby
,
after
prefacing
his
reply
with
his
cough
of
general
propitiation
,
“
that
I
no
more
know
where
he
came
from
,
than
I
know
—
”
“
Where
he
has
gone
to
,
perhaps
,
”
suggests
the
surgeon
,
to
help
him
out
.
A
pause
.
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
looking
at
the
law-stationer
.
Mr.
Krook
,
with
his
mouth
open
,
looking
for
somebody
to
speak
next
.
“
As
to
his
connexions
,
sir
,
”
says
Mr.
Snagsby
,
“
if
a
person
was
to
say
to
me
,
‘Snagsby
,
here
's
twenty
thousand
pound
down
,
ready
for
you
in
the
Bank
of
England
,
if
you
'll
only
name
one
of
'
em
,
I
could
n't
do
it
,
sir
!
About
a
year
and
a
half
ago
—
to
the
best
of
my
belief
at
the
time
when
he
first
came
to
lodge
at
the
present
Rag
and
Bottle
Shop
—
”
“
That
was
the
time
!
”
says
Krook
,
with
a
nod
.
“
About
a
year
and
a
half
ago
,
”
says
Mr.
Snagsby
,
strengthened
,
“
he
came
into
our
place
one
morning
after
breakfast
,
and
,
finding
my
little
woman
(
which
I
name
Mrs.
Snagsby
when
I
use
that
appellation
)
in
our
shop
,
produced
a
specimen
of
his
handwriting
,
and
gave
her
to
understand
that
he
was
in
wants
of
copying
work
to
do
,
and
was
—
not
to
put
too
fine
a
point
upon
it
—
”
a
favorite
apology
for
plain-speaking
with
Mr.
Snagsby
,
which
he
always
offers
with
a
sort
of
argumentative
frankness
,
“
hard
up
!
My
little
woman
is
not
in
general
partial
to
strangers
,
particular
—
not
to
put
too
fine
a
point
upon
it
—
when
they
want
anything
.
But
she
was
rather
took
by
something
about
this
person
;
whether
by
his
being
unshaved
,
or
by
his
hair
being
in
want
of
attention
,
or
by
what
other
ladies
'
reasons
,
I
leave
you
to
judge
;
and
she
accepted
of
the
specimen
,
and
likewise
of
the
address
.
My
little
woman
has
n't
a
good
ear
for
names
,
”
proceeds
Mr.
Snagsby
,
after
consulting
his
cough
of
consideration
behind
his
hand
,
“
and
she
considered
Nemo
equally
the
same
as
Nimrod
.
In
consequence
of
which
,
she
got
into
a
habit
of
saying
to
me
at
meals
,
‘Mr
.
Snagsby
,
you
have
n't
found
Nimrod
any
work
yet
!
’
or
‘Mr
.
Snagsby
,
why
did
n't
you
give
that
eight-and-thirty
Chancery
folio
in
Jarndyce
,
to
Nimrod
?
’
or
such
like
.
And
that
is
the
way
he
gradually
fell
into
job-work
at
our
place
;
and
that
is
the
most
I
know
of
him
,
except
that
he
was
a
quick
hand
,
and
a
hand
not
sparing
of
night-work
;
and
that
if
you
gave
him
out
,
say
five-and-forty
folio
on
the
Wednesday
night
,
you
would
have
it
brought
in
on
the
Thursday
morning
.
All
of
which
—
”
Mr.
Snagsby
concludes
by
politely
motioning
with
his
hat
towards
the
bed
,
as
much
as
to
add
,
‘I
have
no
doubt
my
honorable
friend
would
confirm
,
if
he
were
in
a
condition
to
do
it.’
“
Had
n't
you
better
see
,
”
says
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
to
Krook
,
“
whether
he
had
any
papers
that
may
enlighten
you
?
There
will
be
an
Inquest
,
and
you
will
be
asked
the
question
.
You
can
read
?
”
“
No
,
I
ca
n't
,
”
returns
the
old
man
,
with
a
sudden
grin
.
“
Snagsby
,
”
says
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
,
“
look
over
the
room
for
him
.
He
will
get
into
some
trouble
or
difficulty
,
otherwise
.
Being
here
,
I
'll
wait
,
if
you
make
haste
;
and
then
I
can
testify
on
his
behalf
,
if
it
should
ever
be
necessary
,
that
all
was
fair
and
right
.
If
you
will
hold
the
candle
for
Mr.
Snagsby
,
my
friend
,
he
'll
soon
see
whether
there
is
anything
to
help
you
.
”
“
In
the
first
place
,
here
's
an
old
portmanteau
,
sir
,
”
says
Snagsby
.
Ah
,
to
be
sure
,
so
there
is
!
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
does
not
appear
to
have
seen
it
before
,
though
he
is
standing
so
close
to
it
,
and
though
there
is
very
little
else
,
Heaven
knows
.
The
marine-store
merchant
holds
the
light
,
and
the
law-stationer
conducts
the
search
.
The
surgeon
leans
against
a
corner
of
the
chimney-piece
;
Miss
Flite
peeps
and
trembles
just
within
the
door
.
The
apt
old
scholar
of
the
old
school
,
with
his
dull
black
breeches
tied
with
ribbons
at
the
knees
,
his
large
black
waistcoat
,
his
long-sleeved
black
coat
,
and
his
wisp
of
limp
white
neck-kerchief
tied
in
the
bow
the
Peerage
knows
so
well
,
stands
in
exactly
the
same
place
and
attitude
.
There
are
some
worthless
articles
of
clothing
in
the
old
portmanteau
;
there
is
a
bundle
of
pawnbrokers
'
duplicates
,
those
turnpike
tickets
on
the
road
of
Poverty
;
there
is
a
crumpled
paper
,
smelling
of
opium
,
on
which
are
scrawled
rough
memoranda
—
as
,
took
,
such
a
day
,
so
many
grains
;
took
,
such
another
day
,
so
many
more
—
begun
some
time
ago
,
as
if
with
the
intention
of
being
regularly
continued
,
but
soon
left
off
.
There
are
a
few
dirty
scraps
of
newspapers
,
all
referring
to
Coroners
'
Inquests
;
there
is
nothing
else
.
They
search
the
cupboard
,
and
the
drawer
of
the
ink-splashed
table
.
There
is
not
a
morsel
of
an
old
letter
,
or
of
any
other
writing
,
in
either
.
The
young
surgeon
examines
the
dress
on
the
law-writer
.
A
knife
and
some
odd
halfpence
are
all
he
finds
.
Mr.
Snagsby
's
suggestion
is
the
practical
suggestion
after
all
,
and
the
beadle
must
be
called
in
.
So
the
little
crazy
lodger
goes
for
the
beadle
,
and
the
rest
come
out
of
the
room
.
“
Do
n't
leave
the
cat
there
!
”
says
the
surgeon
:
“
that
wo
n't
do
!
”
Mr.
Krook
therefore
drives
her
out
before
him
;
and
she
goes
furtively
down
stairs
,
winding
her
lithe
tail
and
licking
her
lips
.
“
Good
night
!
”
says
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
;
and
goes
home
to
Allegory
and
meditation
.
By
this
time
the
news
has
got
into
the
court
.
Groups
of
its
inhabitants
assemble
to
discuss
the
thing
;
and
the
outposts
of
the
army
of
observation
(
principally
boys
)
are
pushed
forward
to
Mr.
Krook
's
window
,
which
they
closely
invest.
A
policeman
has
already
walked
up
to
the
room
,
and
walked
down
again
to
the
door
,
where
he
stands
like
a
tower
,
only
condescending
to
see
the
boys
at
his
base
occasionally
;
but
whenever
he
does
see
them
,
they
quail
and
fall
back
.
Mrs.
Perkins
,
who
has
not
been
for
some
weeks
on
speaking
terms
with
Mrs.
Piper
,
in
consequence
of
an
unpleasantness
originating
in
young
Perkins
having
“
fetched
”
young
Piper
“
a
crack
,
”
renews
her
friendly
intercourse
on
this
auspicious
occasion
.
The
potboy
at
the
corner
,
who
is
a
privileged
amateur
,
as
possessing
official
knowledge
of
life
,
and
having
to
deal
with
drunken
men
occasionally
,
exchanges
confidential
communications
with
the
policeman
,
and
has
the
appearance
of
an
impregnable
youth
,
unassailable
by
truncheons
and
unconfinable
in
station-houses
.
People
talk
across
the
court
out
of
window
,
and
bareheaded
scouts
come
hurrying
in
from
Chancery
Lane
to
know
what
's
the
matter
.
The
general
feeling
seems
to
be
that
it
's
a
blessing
Mr.
Krook
war
n't
made
away
with
first
,
mingled
with
a
little
natural
disappointment
that
he
was
not
.
In
the
midst
of
this
sensation
,
the
beadle
arrives
.
The
beadle
,
though
generally
understood
in
the
neighbourhood
to
be
a
ridiculous
institution
,
is
not
without
a
certain
popularity
for
the
moment
,
if
it
were
only
as
a
man
who
is
going
to
see
the
body
.
The
policeman
considers
him
an
imbecile
civilian
,
a
remnant
of
the
barbarous
watchmentimes
;
but
gives
him
admission
,
as
something
that
must
be
borne
with
until
Government
shall
abolish
him
.
The
sensation
is
heightened
,
as
the
tidings
spread
from
mouth
to
mouth
that
the
beadle
is
on
the
ground
,
and
has
gone
in
.
By-and-by
the
beadle
comes
out
,
once
more
intensifying
the
sensation
,
which
has
rather
languished
in
the
interval
.
He
is
understood
to
be
in
want
of
witnesses
,
for
the
Inquest
to-morrow
,
who
can
tell
the
Coroner
and
Jury
anything
whatever
respecting
the
deceased
.
Is
immediately
referred
to
innumerable
people
who
can
tell
nothing
whatever
.
Is
made
more
imbecile
by
being
constantly
informed
that
Mrs.
Green
's
son
“
was
a
law-writer
his-self
,
and
knowed
him
better
than
anybody
”
—
which
son
of
Mrs.
Green
's
appears
,
on
inquiry
,
to
be
at
the
present
time
aboard
a
vessel
bound
for
China
,
three
months
out
,
but
considered
accessible
by
telegraph
,
on
application
to
the
Lords
of
the
Admiralty
.
Beadle
goes
into
various
shops
and
parlors
,
examining
the
inhabitants
;
always
shutting
the
door
first
,
and
by
exclusion
,
delay
,
and
general
idiotey
,
exasperating
the
public
.
Policeman
seen
to
smile
to
potboy
.
Public
loses
interest
,
and
undergoes
reaction
.
Taunts
the
beadle
,
in
shrill
youthful
voices
,
with
having
boiled
a
boy
;
choruses
fragments
of
a
popular
song
to
that
effect
,
and
importing
that
the
boy
was
made
into
soup
for
the
workhouse
.
Policeman
at
last
finds
it
necessary
to
support
the
law
,
and
seize
a
vocalist
;
who
is
released
upon
the
flight
of
the
rest
,
on
condition
of
his
getting
out
of
this
then
,
come
!
and
cutting
it
—
a
condition
he
immediately
observes
.
So
the
sensation
dies
off
for
the
time
;
and
the
unmoved
policeman
(
to
whom
a
little
opium
,
more
or
less
,
is
nothing
)
,
with
his
shining
hat
,
stiff
stock
,
inflexible
great-coat
,
stout
belt
and
bracelet
,
and
all
things
fitting
,
pursues
his
lounging
way
with
a
heavy
tread
:
beating
the
palms
of
his
white
gloves
one
against
the
other
,
and
stopping
now
and
then
,
at
a
street-corner
,
to
look
casually
about
for
anything
between
a
lost
child
and
a
murder
.
Under
cover
of
the
night
,
the
feeble-minded
beadle
comes
flitting
about
Chancery
Lane
with
his
summonses
,
in
which
every
Juror
's
name
is
wrongly
spelt
,
and
nothing
is
rightly
spelt
but
the
beadle
's
own
name
,
which
nobody
can
read
or
wants
to
know
.
The
summonses
served
,
and
his
witnesses
forewarned
,
the
beadle
goes
to
Mr.
Krook
's
,
to
keep
a
small
appointment
he
has
made
with
certain
paupers
;
who
,
presently
arriving
,
are
conducted
up-stairs
;
where
they
leave
the
great
eyes
in
the
shutter
something
new
to
stare
at
,
in
that
last
shape
which
earthly
lodgings
take
for
No
one
—
and
for
Every
one
.
And
,
all
that
night
,
the
coffin
stands
ready
by
the
old
portmanteau
;
and
the
lonely
figure
on
the
bed
,
whose
path
in
life
has
lain
through
five-and-forty
years
,
lies
there
,
with
no
more
track
behind
him
,
that
any
one
can
trace
,
than
a
deserted
infant
.
Next
day
the
court
is
all
alive
—
is
like
a
fair
,
as
Mrs.
Perkins
,
more
than
reconciled
to
Mrs.
Piper
,
says
,
in
amicable
conversation
with
that
excellent
woman
.
The
coroner
is
to
sit
in
the
first-floor
room
at
the
Sol
's
Arms
,
where
the
Harmonic
Meetings
take
place
twice
a-week
,
and
where
the
chair
is
filled
by
a
gentleman
of
professional
celebrity
,
faced
by
little
Swills
,
the
comic
vocalist
,
who
hopes
(
according
to
the
bill
in
the
window
)
that
his
friends
will
rally
round
him
and
support
first-rate
talent
.
The
Sol
's
Arms
does
a
brisk
stroke
of
business
all
the
morning
.
Even
children
so
require
sustaining
,
under
the
general
excitement
,
that
a
pieman
,
who
has
established
himself
for
the
occasion
at
the
corner
of
the
court
,
says
his
brandy-balls
go
off
like
smoke
.
What
time
the
beadle
,
hovering
between
the
door
of
Mr.
Krook
's
establishment
and
the
door
of
the
Sol
's
Arms
,
shews
the
curiosity
in
his
keeping
to
a
few
discreet
spirits
,
and
accepts
the
compliment
of
a
glass
of
ale
or
so
in
return
.
At
the
appointed
hour
arrives
the
Coroner
,
for
whom
the
Jurymen
are
waiting
,
and
who
is
received
with
a
salute
of
kittles
from
the
good
dry
skittle-ground
attached
to
the
Sol
's
Arms
.
The
Coroner
frequents
more
public-houses
than
any
man
alive
.
The
smell
of
sawdust
,
beer
,
tobacco-smoke
,
and
spirits
,
is
inseparable
in
his
vocation
from
death
in
its
most
awful
shapes
.
He
is
conducted
by
the
beadle
and
the
landlord
to
the
Harmonic
Meeting
Room
,
where
he
puts
his
hat
on
the
piano
,
and
takes
a
Windsor-chair
at
the
head
of
a
long
table
,
formed
of
several
short
tables
put
together
,
and
ornamented
with
glutinous
rings
in
endless
involutions
,
made
by
pots
and
glasses
.
As
many
of
the
Jury
as
can
crowd
together
at
the
table
sit
there
.
The
rest
get
among
the
spittoons
and
pipes
,
or
lean
against
the
piano
.
Over
the
Coroner
's
head
is
a
small
iron
garland
,
the
pendant
handle
of
a
bell
,
which
rather
gives
the
Majesty
of
the
Court
the
appearance
of
going
to
be
hanged
presently
.
Call
over
and
swear
the
Jury
!
While
the
ceremony
is
in
progress
,
sensation
is
created
by
the
entrance
of
a
chubby
little
man
in
a
large
shirt-collar
,
with
a
moist
eye
,
and
an
inflamed
nose
,
who
modestly
takes
a
position
near
the
door
as
one
of
the
general
public
,
but
seems
familiar
with
the
room
too
.
A
whisper
circulates
that
this
is
little
Swills
.
It
is
considered
not
unlikely
that
he
will
get
up
an
imitation
of
the
Coroner
,
and
make
it
the
principal
feature
of
the
Harmonic
Meeting
in
the
evening
.
“
Well
,
gentlemen
—
”
the
Coroner
begins
.
“
Silence
there
,
will
you
!
”
says
the
beadle
.
Not
to
the
Coroner
,
though
it
might
appear
so
.
“
Well
,
gentlemen
!
”
resumes
the
Coroner
.
“
You
are
impanelled
here
,
to
inquire
into
the
death
of
a
certain
man
.
Evidence
will
be
given
before
you
,
as
to
the
circumstances
attending
that
death
,
and
you
will
give
your
verdict
according
to
the
—
skittles
;
they
must
be
stopped
,
you
know
,
beadle
!
—
evidence
,
and
not
according
to
anything
else
.
The
first
thing
to
be
done
,
is
to
view
the
body
.
”
“
Make
way
there
!
”
cries
the
beadle
.
So
they
go
out
in
a
loose
procession
,
something
after
the
manner
of
a
straggling
funeral
,
and
make
their
inspection
in
Mr.
Krook
's
back
second
floor
,
from
which
a
few
of
the
Jurymen
retire
pale
and
precipitately
.
The
beadle
is
very
careful
that
two
gentlemen
not
very
neat
about
the
cuffs
and
buttons
(
for
whose
accommodation
he
has
provided
a
special
little
table
near
the
Coroner
,
in
the
Harmonic
Meeting
Room
)
,
should
see
all
that
is
to
be
seen
.
For
they
are
the
public
chroniclers
of
such
inquiries
,
by
the
line
;
and
he
is
not
superior
to
the
universal
human
infirmity
,
but
hopes
to
read
in
print
what
“
Mooney
,
the
active
and
intelligent
beadle
of
the
district
,
”
said
and
did
;
and
even
aspires
to
see
the
name
of
Mooney
as
familiarly
and
patronisingly
mentioned
as
the
name
of
the
Hangman
is
,
according
to
the
latest
examples
.
Little
Swills
is
waiting
for
the
Coroner
and
Jury
on
their
return
.
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
,
also
.
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
is
received
with
distinction
,
and
seated
near
the
Coroner
;
between
that
high
judicial
officer
,
a
bagatelle
board
,
and
the
coal-box
.
The
inquiry
proceeds
.
The
Jury
learn
how
the
subject
of
their
inquiry
died
,
and
learn
no
more
about
him
.
“
A
very
eminent
solicitor
is
in
attendance
,
gentlemen
,
”
says
the
Coroner
,
“
who
,
I
am
informed
,
was
accidentally
present
,
when
discovery
of
the
death
was
made
;
but
he
could
only
repeat
the
evidence
you
have
already
heard
from
the
surgeon
,
the
landlord
,
the
lodger
,
and
the
law-stationer
;
and
it
is
not
necessary
to
trouble
him
.
Is
anybody
in
attendance
who
knows
anything
more
?
”
Mrs.
Piper
pushed
forward
by
Mrs.
Perkins
.
Mrs.
Piper
sworn
.
Anastasia
Piper
,
gentlemen
.
Married
woman
.
Now
,
Mrs.
Piper
—
what
have
you
got
to
say
about
this
?
Why
,
Mrs.
Piper
has
a
good
deal
to
say
,
chiefly
in
parenthesis
and
without
punctuation
,
but
not
much
to
tell
.
Mrs.
Piper
lives
in
the
court
(
which
her
husband
is
a
cabinet-maker
)
and
it
has
long
been
well
beknown
among
the
neighbours
(
counting
from
the
day
next
but
one
before
the
half-baptising
of
Alexander
James
Piper
aged
eighteen
months
and
four
days
old
on
accounts
of
not
being
expected
to
live
such
was
the
sufferings
gentlemen
of
that
child
in
his
gums
)
as
the
Plaintive
—
so
Mrs.
Piper
insists
on
calling
the
deceased
—
was
reported
to
have
sold
himself
.
Thinks
it
was
the
Plaintive
's
air
in
which
that
report
originated
.
See
the
Plaintive
often
,
and
considered
as
his
air
was
ferocious
,
and
not
to
be
allowed
to
go
about
some
children
being
timid
(
and
if
doubted
hoping
Mrs.
Perkins
may
be
brought
forward
for
she
is
here
and
will
do
credit
to
her
husband
and
herself
and
family
)
.
Has
seen
the
Plaintive
wexed
and
worrited
by
the
children
(
for
children
they
will
ever
be
and
you
cannot
expect
them
specially
if
of
playful
dispositions
to
be
Methoozellers
which
you
was
not
yourself
)
.
On
accounts
of
this
and
his
dark
looks
has
often
dreamed
as
she
see
him
take
a
pickaxe
from
his
pocket
and
split
Johnny
's
head
(
which
the
child
knows
not
fear
and
has
repeatually
called
after
him
close
at
his
eels
)
.
Never
however
see
the
Plaintive
take
a
pickaxe
or
any
other
wepping
far
from
it
.
Has
seen
him
hurry
away
when
run
and
called
after
as
if
not
partial
to
children
and
never
see
him
speak
to
neither
child
nor
grown
person
at
any
time
(
excepting
the
boy
that
sweeps
the
crossing
down
the
lane
over
the
way
round
the
corner
which
if
he
was
here
would
tell
you
that
he
has
been
seen
a
speaking
to
him
frequent
)
.
Says
the
Coroner
,
is
that
boy
here
?
Says
the
beadle
,
no
,
sir
,
he
is
not
here
.
Says
the
Coroner
,
go
and
fetch
him
then
.
In
the
absence
of
the
active
and
intelligent
,
the
Coroner
converses
with
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
.
O
!
Here
's
the
boy
,
gentlemen
!
Here
he
is
,
very
muddy
,
very
hoarse
,
very
ragged
.
Now
,
boy
!
—
But
stop
a
minute
.
Caution
.
This
boy
must
be
put
through
a
few
preliminary
paces
.
Name
,
Jo
.
Nothing
else
that
he
knows
on
.
Do
n't
know
that
everybody
has
two
names
.
Never
heerd
of
sich
a
think
.
Do
n't
know
that
Jo
is
short
for
a
longer
name
.
Thinks
it
long
enough
for
him
.
He
do
n't
find
no
fault
with
it
.
Spell
it
?
No.
He
ca
n't
spell
it
.
No
father
,
no
mother
,
no
friends
.
Never
been
to
school
.
What
's
home
?
Knows
a
broom
's
a
broom
,
and
knows
it
's
wicked
to
tell
a
lie
.
Do
n't
recollect
who
told
him
about
the
broom
,
or
about
the
lie
,
but
knows
both
.
Ca
n't
exactly
say
what
'll
be
done
to
him
arter
he
's
dead
if
he
tells
a
lie
to
the
gentlemen
here
,
but
believes
it
'll
be
something
wery
bad
to
punish
him
,
and
serve
him
right
—
and
so
he
'll
tell
the
truth
.
“
This
wo
n't
do
,
gentlemen
!
”
says
the
Coroner
,
with
a
melancholy
shake
of
the
head
.
“
Do
n't
you
think
you
can
receive
his
evidence
,
sir
?
”
asks
an
attentive
Juryman
.
“
Out
of
the
question
,
”
says
the
Coroner
.
“
You
have
heard
the
boy
.
‘Ca
n't
exactly
say’
wo
n't
do
,
you
know
.
We
ca
n't
take
that
,
in
a
Court
of
Justice
,
gentlemen
.
It
's
terrible
depravity
.
Put
the
boy
aside
.
”
Boy
put
aside
;
to
the
great
edification
of
the
audience
;
—
especially
of
Little
Swills
,
the
Comic
Vocalist
.
Now
.
Is
there
any
other
witness
?
No
other
witness
.
Very
well
,
gentlemen
!
Here
's
a
man
unknown
,
proved
to
have
been
in
the
habit
of
taking
opium
in
large
quantities
for
a
year
and
a
half
,
found
dead
of
too
much
opium
.
If
you
think
you
have
any
evidence
to
lead
you
to
the
conclusion
that
he
committed
suicide
,
you
will
come
to
that
conclusion
.
If
you
think
it
is
a
case
of
accidental
death
,
you
will
find
a
Verdict
accordingly
.
Verdict
accordingly
.
Accidental
death
.
No
doubt
.
Gentlemen
,
you
are
discharged
.
Good
afternoon
.
While
the
Coroner
buttons
his
great
coat
,
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
and
he
give
private
audience
to
the
rejected
witness
in
a
corner
.
That
graceless
creature
only
knows
that
the
dead
man
(
whom
he
recognised
just
now
by
his
yellow
face
and
black
hair
)
was
sometimes
hooted
and
pursued
about
the
streets
.
That
one
cold
winter
night
,
when
he
,
the
boy
,
was
shivering
in
a
doorway
near
his
crossing
,
the
man
turned
to
look
at
him
,
and
came
back
,
and
,
having
questioned
him
and
found
that
he
had
not
a
friend
in
the
world
,
said
,
“
Neither
have
I
.
Not
one
!
”
and
gave
him
the
price
of
a
supper
and
a
night
's
lodging
.
That
the
man
had
often
spoken
to
him
since
;
and
asked
him
whether
he
slept
sound
at
night
,
and
how
he
bore
cold
and
hunger
,
and
whether
he
ever
wished
to
die
;
and
similar
strange
questions
.
That
when
the
man
had
no
money
,
he
would
say
in
passing
,
“
I
am
as
poor
as
you
to-day
,
Jo
;
”
but
that
when
he
had
any
,
he
had
always
(
as
the
boy
most
heartily
believes
)
been
glad
to
give
him
some
.
“
He
was
wery
good
to
me
,
”
says
the
boy
,
wiping
his
eyes
with
his
wretched
sleeve
.
“
Wen
I
see
him
a
layin
'
so
stritched
out
just
now
,
I
wished
he
could
have
heerd
me
tell
him
so
.
He
wos
wery
good
to
me
,
he
wos
!
”
As
he
shuffles
down
stairs
,
Mr.
Snagsby
,
lying
in
wait
for
him
,
puts
a
half-crown
in
his
hand
.
“
If
ever
you
see
me
coming
past
your
crossing
with
my
little
woman
—
I
mean
a
lady
—
”
says
Mr.
Snagsby
,
with
his
finger
on
his
nose
,
“
do
n't
allude
to
it
!
”
For
some
little
time
the
Jurymen
hang
about
the
Sol
's
Arms
colloquially
.
In
the
sequel
,
half-a-dozen
are
caught
up
in
a
cloud
of
pipe-smoke
that
pervades
the
parlor
of
the
Sol
's
Arms
;
two
stroll
to
Hampstead
;
and
four
engage
to
go
half-price
to
the
play
at
night
,
and
top
up
with
oysters
.
Little
Swills
is
treated
on
several
hands
.
Being
asked
what
he
thinks
of
the
proceedings
,
characterises
them
(
his
strength
lying
in
a
slangular
direction
)
as
“
a
rummy
start
.
”
The
landlord
of
the
Sol
's
Arms
,
finding
Little
Swills
so
popular
,
commends
him
highly
to
the
Jurymen
and
public
;
observing
that
,
for
a
song
in
character
,
he
do
n't
know
his
equal
,
and
that
that
man
's
character-wardrobe
would
fill
a
cart
.
Thus
,
gradually
the
Sol
's
Arms
melts
into
the
shadowy
night
,
and
then
flares
out
of
it
strong
in
gas
.
The
Harmonic
Meeting
hour
arriving
,
the
gentleman
of
professional
celebrity
takes
the
chair
;
is
faced
(
red-faced
)
by
Little
Swills
;
their
friends
rally
round
them
,
and
support
first-rate
talent
.
In
the
zenith
of
the
evening
,
Little
Swills
says
,
Gentlemen
,
if
you
'll
permit
me
,
I
'll
attempt
a
short
description
of
a
scene
of
real
life
that
came
off
here
to-day
.
Is
much
applauded
and
encouraged
;
goes
out
of
the
room
as
Swills
;
comes
in
as
the
Coroner
(
not
the
least
in
the
world
like
him
)
;
describes
the
Inquest
,
with
recreative
intervals
of
piano-forte
accompaniment
to
the
refrain
—
With
his
(
the
Coroner
's
)
tippy
tol
li
doll
,
tippy
tol
lo
doll
,
tippy
tol
li
doll
,
Dee
!
The
jingling
piano
at
last
is
silent
,
and
the
Harmonic
friends
rally
round
their
pillows
.
Then
there
is
rest
around
the
lonely
figure
,
now
laid
in
its
last
earthly
habitation
;
and
it
is
watched
by
the
gaunt
eyes
in
the
shutters
through
some
quiet
hours
of
night
.
If
this
forlorn
man
could
have
been
prophetically
seen
lying
here
,
by
the
mother
at
whose
breast
he
nestled
,
a
little
child
,
with
eyes
upraised
to
her
loving
face
,
and
soft
hand
scarcely
knowing
how
to
close
upon
the
neck
to
which
it
crept
,
what
an
impossibility
the
vision
would
have
seemed
!
O
,
if
,
in
brighter
days
,
the
now-extinguished
fire
within
him
ever
burned
for
one
woman
who
held
him
in
her
heart
,
where
is
she
,
while
these
ashes
are
above
the
ground
!
It
is
anything
but
a
night
of
rest
at
Mr.
Snagsby
's
,
in
Cook
's
Court
;
where
Guster
murders
sleep
,
by
going
,
as
Mr.
Snagsby
himself
allows
—
not
to
put
too
fine
a
point
upon
it
—
out
of
one
fit
into
twenty
.
The
occasion
of
this
seizure
is
,
that
Guster
has
a
tender
heart
,
and
a
susceptible
something
that
possibly
night
have
been
imagination
,
but
for
Tooting
and
her
patron
saint
.
Be
it
what
it
may
,
now
,
it
was
so
direfully
impressed
at
tea-time
by
Mr.
Snagsby
's
account
of
the
enquiry
at
which
he
had
assisted
,
that
at
supper-time
she
projected
herself
into
the
kitchen
,
preceded
by
a
flying
Dutch-cheese
,
and
fell
into
a
fit
of
unusual
duration
:
which
she
only
came
out
of
to
go
into
another
,
and
another
,
and
so
on
through
a
chain
of
fits
,
with
short
intervals
between
,
of
which
she
has
pathetically
availed
herself
by
consuming
them
in
entreaties
to
Mrs.
Snagsby
not
to
give
her
warning
“
when
she
quite
comes
to
;
”
and
also
in
appeals
to
the
whole
establishment
to
lay
her
down
on
the
stones
,
and
go
to
bed
.
Hence
,
Mr.
Snagsby
,
at
last
hearing
the
cock
at
the
little
dairy
in
Cursitor
Street
go
into
that
disinterested
ecstasy
of
his
on
the
subject
of
daylight
,
says
,
drawing
a
long
breath
,
though
the
most
patient
of
men
,
“
I
thought
you
was
dead
,
I
am
sure
!
”
What
question
this
enthusiastic
fowl
supposes
he
settles
when
he
strains
himself
to
such
an
extent
,
or
why
he
should
thus
crow
(
so
men
crow
on
various
triumphant
public
occasions
,
however
)
about
what
cannot
be
of
any
moment
to
him
,
is
his
affair
.
It
is
enough
that
daylight
comes
,
morning
comes
,
noon
comes
.
Then
the
active
and
intelligent
,
who
has
got
into
the
morning
papers
as
such
,
comes
with
his
pauper
company
to
Mr.
Krook
's
,
and
bears
off
the
body
of
our
dear
brother
here
departed
,
to
a
hemmed-in
churchyard
,
pestiferous
and
obscene
,
whence
malignant
diseases
are
communicated
to
the
bodies
of
our
dear
brothers
and
sisters
who
have
not
departed
;
while
our
dear
brothers
and
sisters
who
hang
about
official
backstairs
—
would
to
Heaven
they
had
departed
!
—
are
very
complacent
and
agreeable
.
Into
a
beastly
scrap
of
ground
which
a
Turk
would
reject
as
a
savage
abomination
,
and
a
Caffre
would
shudder
at
,
they
bring
our
dear
brother
here
departed
,
to
receive
Christian
burial
.
With
houses
looking
on
,
on
every
side
,
save
where
a
reeking
little
tunnel
of
a
court
gives
access
to
the
iron
gate
—
with
every
villainy
of
life
in
action
close
on
death
,
and
every
poisonous
element
of
death
in
action
close
on
life
—
here
,
they
lower
our
dear
brother
down
a
foot
or
two
:
here
,
sow
him
in
corruption
,
to
be
raised
in
corruption
:
an
avenging
ghost
at
many
a
sick-bedside
:
a
shameful
testimony
to
future
ages
,
how
civilisation
and
barbarism
walked
this
boastful
island
together
.
Come
night
,
come
darkness
,
for
you
cannot
come
too
soon
,
or
stay
too
long
,
by
such
a
place
as
this
!
Come
,
straggling
lights
into
the
windows
of
the
ugly
houses
;
and
you
who
do
iniquity
therein
,
do
it
at
least
with
this
dread
scene
shut
out
!
Come
,
flame
of
gas
,
burning
so
sullenly
above
the
iron
gate
,
on
which
the
poisoned
air
deposits
its
witch-ointment
slimy
to
the
touch
!
It
is
well
that
you
should
call
to
every
passer-by
,
“
Look
here
!
”
With
the
night
,
comes
a
slouching
figure
through
the
tunnel-court
,
to
the
outside
of
the
iron
gate
.
It
holds
the
gate
with
its
hands
,
and
looks
in
between
the
bars
;
stands
looking
in
,
for
a
little
while
.
It
then
,
with
an
old
broom
it
carries
,
softly
sweeps
the
step
,
and
makes
the
archway
clean
.
It
does
so
,
very
busily
and
trimly
;
looks
in
again
,
a
little
while
;
and
so
departs
.
Jo
,
is
it
thou
?
Well
,
well
!
Though
a
rejected
witness
,
who
“
ca
n't
exactly
say
”
what
will
be
done
to
him
in
greater
hands
than
men
's
,
thou
art
not
quite
in
outer
darkness
.
There
is
something
like
a
distant
ray
of
light
in
thy
muttered
reason
for
this
:
“
He
wos
wery
good
to
me
,
he
wos
!
”
CHAPTER
XII
.
ON
THE
WATCH
.
IT
has
left
off
raining
down
in
Lincolnshire
,
at
last
,
and
Chesney
Wold
has
taken
heart
.
Mrs.
Rouncewell
is
full
of
hospitable
cares
,
for
Sir
Leicester
and
my
Lady
are
coming
home
from
Paris
.
The
fashionable
intelligence
has
found
it
out
,
and
communicates
the
glad
tidings
to
benighted
England
.
It
has
also
found
out
,
that
they
will
entertain
a
brilliant
and
distinguished
circle
of
the
élite
of
the
beau
monde
(
the
fashionable
intelligence
is
weak
in
English
,
but
a
giant-refreshed
in
French
)
,
at
the
ancient
and
hospitable
family
seat
in
Lincolnshire
.
For
the
greater
honor
of
the
brilliant
and
distinguished
circle
,
and
of
Chesney
Wold
into
the
bargain
,
the
broken
arch
of
the
bridge
in
the
park
is
mended
;
and
the
water
,
now
retired
within
its
proper
limits
and
again
spanned
gracefully
,
makes
a
figure
in
the
prospect
from
the
house
.
The
clear
cold
sunshine
glances
into
the
brittle
woods
,
and
approvingly
beholds
the
sharp
wind
scattering
the
leaves
and
drying
the
moss
.
It
glides
over
the
park
after
the
moving
shadows
of
the
clouds
,
and
chases
them
,
and
never
catches
them
,
all
day
.
It
looks
in
at
the
windows
,
and
touches
the
ancestral
portraits
with
bars
and
patches
of
brightness
,
never
contemplated
by
the
painters
.
Athwart
the
picture
of
my
Lady
,
over
the
great
chimney-piece
,
it
throws
a
broad
bend-sinister
of
light
that
strikes
down
crookedly
into
the
hearth
,
and
seems
to
rend
it
.
Through
the
same
cold
sunshine
,
and
the
same
sharp
wind
,
my
Lady
and
Sir
Leicester
,
in
their
travelling
chariot
,
(
my
Lady
's
woman
,
and
Sir
Leicester
's
man
affectionate
in
the
rumble
,
)
start
for
home
.
With
a
considerable
amount
of
jingling
and
whip-cracking
,
and
many
plunging
demonstrations
on
the
part
of
two
bare-backed
horses
,
and
two
Centaurs
with
glazed
hats
,
jack-boots
,
and
flowing
manes
and
tails
,
they
rattle
out
of
the
yard
of
the
Hôtel
Bristol
in
the
Place
Vendôme
,
and
canter
between
the
sun-and-shadow-chequered
colonnade
of
the
Rue
de
Rivoli
and
the
garden
of
the
ill-fated
palace
of
a
headless
king
and
queen
,
off
by
the
Place
of
Concord
,
and
the
Elysian
Fields
,
and
the
Gate
of
the
Star
,
out
of
Paris
.
Sooth
to
say
,
they
cannot
go
away
too
fast
;
for
,
even
here
,
my
Lady
Dedlock
has
been
bored
to
death
.
Concert
,
assembly
,
opera
,
theatre
,
drive
,
nothing
is
new
to
my
Lady
,
under
the
worn-out
heavens
.
Only
last
Sunday
,
when
poor
wretches
were
gay
—
within
the
walls
,
playing
with
children
among
the
clipped
trees
and
the
statues
in
the
Palace
Garden
;
walking
,
a
score
abreast
,
in
the
Elysian
Fields
,
made
more
Elysian
by
performing
dogs
and
wooden
horses
;
between
whiles
filtering
(
a
few
)
through
the
gloomy
Cathedral
of
Our
Lady
,
to
say
a
word
or
two
at
the
base
of
a
pillar
,
within
flare
of
a
rusty
little
gridiron-full
of
gusty
little
tapers
—
without
the
walls
,
encompassing
Paris
with
dancing
,
love-making
,
wine-drinking
,
tobacco-smoking
,
tomb-visiting
,
billiard
card
and
domino
playing
,
quack-doctoring
,
and
much
murderous
refuse
,
animate
and
inanimate
—
only
last
Sunday
,
my
Lady
,
in
the
desolation
of
Boredom
and
the
clutch
of
Giant
Despair
,
almost
hated
her
own
maid
for
being
in
spirits
.
She
cannot
,
therefore
,
go
too
fast
from
Paris
.
Weariness
of
soul
lies
before
her
,
as
it
lies
behind
—
her
Ariel
has
put
a
girdle
of
it
round
the
whole
earth
,
and
it
cannot
be
unclasped
—
but
the
imperfect
remedy
is
always
to
fly
,
from
the
last
place
where
it
has
been
experienced
.
Fling
Paris
back
into
the
distance
,
then
,
exchanging
it
for
endless
avenues
and
cross-avenues
of
wintry
trees
!
And
,
when
next
beheld
,
let
it
be
some
leagues
away
,
with
the
Gate
of
the
Star
a
white
speck
glittering
in
the
sun
,
and
the
city
a
mere
mound
in
a
plain
:
two
dark
square
towers
rising
out
of
it
,
and
light
and
shadow
descending
on
it
aslant
,
like
the
angels
in
Jacob
's
dream
!
Sir
Leicester
is
generally
in
a
complacent
state
,
and
rarely
bored
.
When
he
has
nothing
else
to
do
,
he
can
always
contemplate
his
own
greatness
.
It
is
a
considerable
advantage
to
a
man
,
to
have
so
inexhaustible
a
subject
.
After
reading
his
letters
,
he
leans
back
in
his
corner
of
the
carriage
,
and
generally
reviews
his
importance
to
society
.
“
You
have
an
unusual
amount
of
correspondence
this
morning
?
”
says
my
Lady
,
after
a
long
time
.
She
is
fatigued
with
reading
.
Has
almost
read
a
page
in
twenty
miles
.
“
Nothing
in
it
,
though
.
Nothing
whatever
.
”
“
I
saw
one
of
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
's
long
effusions
,
I
think
?
”
“
You
see
everything
,
”
says
Sir
Leicester
,
with
admiration
.
“
Ha
!
”
sighs
my
Lady
.
“
He
is
the
most
tiresome
of
men
!
”
“
He
sends
—
I
really
beg
your
pardon
—
he
sends
,
”
says
Sir
Leicester
,
selecting
the
letter
,
and
unfolding
it
,
“
a
message
to
you
.
Our
stopping
to
change
horses
,
as
I
came
to
his
postscript
,
drove
it
out
of
my
memory
.
I
beg
you
'll
excuse
me
.
He
says
—
”
Sir
Leicester
is
so
long
in
taking
out
his
eye-glass
and
adjusting
it
,
that
my
Lady
looks
a
little
irritated
.
“
He
says
‘In
the
matter
of
the
right
of
way
—
’
I
beg
your
pardon
,
that
's
not
the
place
.
He
says
—
yes
!
Here
I
have
it
!
He
says
,
‘I
beg
my
respectful
compliments
to
my
Lady
,
who
,
I
hope
,
has
benefited
by
the
change
.
Will
you
do
me
the
favor
to
mention
(
as
it
may
interest
her
)
,
that
I
have
something
to
tell
her
on
her
return
,
in
reference
to
the
person
who
copied
the
affidavit
in
the
Chancery
suit
,
which
so
powerfully
stimulated
her
curiosity
.
I
have
seen
him.’
”
My
Lady
,
leaning
forward
,
looks
out
for
her
window
.
“
That
's
the
message
,
”
observes
Sir
Leicester
.
“
I
should
like
to
walk
a
little
,
”
says
my
Lady
,
still
looking
out
of
her
window
.
“
Walk
?
”
repeats
Sir
Leicester
,
in
a
tone
of
surprise
.
“
I
should
like
to
walk
a
little
,
”
says
my
Lady
,
with
unmistakeable
distinctness
.
“
Please
to
stop
the
carriage
.
”
The
carriage
is
stopped
,
the
affectionate
man
alights
from
the
rumble
,
opens
the
door
,
and
lets
down
the
steps
,
obedient
to
an
impatient
motion
of
my
Lady
's
hand
.
My
Lady
alights
so
quickly
,
and
walks
away
so
quickly
,
that
Sir
Leicester
,
for
all
his
scrupulous
politeness
,
is
unable
to
assist
her
,
and
is
left
behind
.
A
space
of
a
minute
or
two
has
elapsed
before
he
comes
up
with
her
.
She
smiles
,
looks
very
handsome
,
takes
his
arm
,
lounges
with
him
for
a
quarter
of
a
mile
,
is
very
much
bored
,
and
resumes
her
seat
in
the
carriage
.
The
rattle
and
clatter
continue
through
the
greater
part
of
three
days
,
with
more
or
less
of
bell-jingling
and
whip-cracking
,
and
more
or
less
plunging
of
Centaurs
and
bare-backed
horses
.
Their
courtly
politeness
to
each
other
,
at
the
Hotels
where
they
tarry
,
is
the
theme
of
general
admiration
.
Though
my
Lord
is
a
little
aged
for
my
Lady
,
says
Madame
,
the
hostess
of
the
Golden
Ape
,
and
though
he
might
be
her
amiable
father
,
one
can
see
at
a
glance
that
they
love
each
other
.
One
observes
my
Lord
with
his
white
hair
,
standing
,
hat
in
hand
,
to
help
my
Lady
to
and
from
the
carriage
.
One
observes
my
Lady
,
how
recognisant
of
my
Lord
's
politeness
,
with
an
inclination
of
her
gracious
head
,
and
the
concession
of
her
so-genteel
fingers
!
It
is
ravishing
!
The
sea
has
no
appreciation
of
great
men
,
but
knocks
them
about
like
the
small
fry
.
It
is
habitually
hard
upon
Sir
Leicester
,
whose
countenance
it
greenly
mottles
in
the
manner
of
sage-cheese
,
and
in
whose
aristocratic
system
it
effects
a
dismal
revolution
.
It
is
the
Radical
of
Nature
to
him
.
Nevertheless
,
his
dignity
gets
over
it
,
after
stopping
to
refit
;
and
he
goes
on
with
my
Lady
for
Chesney
Wold
,
lying
only
one
night
in
London
on
the
way
to
Lincolnshire
.
Through
the
same
cold
sunlight
—
colder
as
the
day
declines
,
—
and
through
the
same
sharp
wind
—
sharper
as
the
separate
shadows
of
bare
trees
gloom
together
in
the
woods
,
and
as
the
Ghost
's
Walk
,
touched
at
the
western
corner
by
a
pile
of
fire
in
the
sky
,
resigns
itself
to
coming
night
,
—
they
drive
into
the
park
.
The
Rooks
,
swinging
in
their
lofty
houses
in
the
elm-tree
avenue
,
seem
to
discuss
the
question
of
the
occupancy
of
the
carriage
as
it
passes
underneath
;
some
agreeing
that
Sir
Leicester
and
my
Lady
are
come
down
;
some
arguing
with
malcontents
who
wo
n't
admit
it
,
now
,
all
consenting
to
consider
the
question
disposed
of
;
now
,
all
breaking
out
again
in
violent
debate
,
incited
by
one
obstinate
and
drowsy
bird
,
who
will
persist
in
putting
in
a
last
contradictory
croak
.
Leaving
them
to
swing
and
caw
,
the
travelling
chariot
rolls
on
to
the
house
;
where
fires
gleam
warmly
through
some
of
the
windows
,
though
not
through
so
many
as
to
give
an
inhabited
expression
to
the
darkening
mass
of
front
.
But
the
brilliant
and
distinguished
circle
will
soon
do
that
.
Mrs.
Rouncewell
is
in
attendance
,
and
receives
Sir
Leicester
's
customary
shake
of
the
hand
with
a
profound
curtsey
.
“
How
do
you
do
,
Mrs.
Rouncewell
?
I
am
glad
to
see
you
.
”
“
I
hope
I
have
the
honor
of
welcoming
you
in
good
health
,
Sir
Leicester
?
”
“
In
excellent
health
,
Mrs.
Rouncewell
.
”
“
My
Lady
is
looking
charmingly
well
,
”
says
Mrs.
Rouncewell
,
with
another
curtsey
.
My
Lady
signifies
,
without
profuse
expenditure
of
words
,
that
she
is
as
wearily
well
as
she
can
hope
to
be
.
But
Rosa
is
in
the
distance
,
behind
the
housekeeper
;
and
my
Lady
,
who
has
not
subdued
the
quickness
of
her
observation
,
whatever
else
she
may
have
conquered
,
asks
:
“
Who
is
that
girl
?
”
“
A
young
scholar
of
mine
,
my
Lady
.
Rosa
.
”
“
Come
here
,
Rosa
!
”
Lady
Dedlock
beckons
her
,
with
even
an
appearance
of
interest
.
“
Why
,
do
you
know
how
pretty
you
are
,
child
?
”
she
says
,
touching
her
shoulder
with
her
two
forefingers
.
Rosa
,
very
much
abashed
,
says
“
No
,
if
you
please
,
my
Lady
!
”
and
glances
up
,
and
glances
down
,
and
do
n't
know
where
to
look
,
but
looks
all
the
prettier
.
“
How
old
are
you
?
”
“
Nineteen
,
my
Lady
.
”
“
Nineteen
,
”
repeats
my
Lady
,
thoughtfully
.
“
Take
care
they
do
n't
spoil
you
by
flattery
.
”
“
Yes
,
my
Lady
.
”
My
Lady
taps
her
dimpled
cheek
with
the
same
delicate
gloved
fingers
,
and
goes
on
to
the
foot
of
the
oak
staircase
,
where
Sir
Leicester
pauses
for
her
as
her
knightly
escort
.
A
staring
old
Dedlock
in
a
panel
,
as
large
as
life
and
as
dull
,
looks
as
if
he
did
n't
know
what
to
make
of
it
—
which
was
probably
his
general
state
of
mind
in
the
days
of
Queen
Elizabeth
.
That
evening
,
in
the
housekeeper
's
room
,
Rosa
can
do
nothing
but
murmur
Lady
Dedlock
's
praises
.
She
is
so
affable
,
so
graceful
,
so
beautiful
,
so
elegant
;
has
such
a
sweet
voice
,
and
such
a
thrilling
touch
,
that
Rosa
can
feel
it
yet
!
Mrs.
Rouncewell
confirms
all
this
,
not
without
personal
pride
,
reserving
only
the
one
point
of
affability
.
Mrs.
Rouncewell
is
not
quite
sure
as
to
that
.
Heaven
forbid
that
she
should
say
a
syllable
in
dispraise
of
any
member
of
that
excellent
family
;
above
all
,
of
my
Lady
,
whom
the
whole
world
admires
;
but
if
my
Lady
would
only
be
“
a
little
more
free
,
”
not
quite
so
cold
and
distant
,
Mrs.
Rouncewell
thinks
she
would
be
more
affable
.
“
'
Tis
almost
a
pity
,
”
Mrs.
Rouncewell
adds
—
only
“
almost
,
”
because
it
borders
on
impiety
to
suppose
that
anything
could
be
better
than
it
is
,
in
such
an
express
dispensation
as
the
Dedlock
affairs
;
“
that
my
Lady
has
no
family
.
If
she
had
had
a
daughter
now
,
a
grown
young
lady
,
to
interest
her
,
I
think
she
would
have
had
the
only
kind
of
excellence
she
wants
.
”
“
Might
not
that
have
made
her
still
more
proud
,
grandmother
?
”
says
Watt
;
who
has
been
home
and
come
back
again
,
he
is
such
a
good
grandson
.
“
More
and
most
,
my
dear
,
”
returns
the
housekeeper
with
dignity
,
“
are
words
it
's
not
my
place
to
use
—
nor
so
much
as
to
hear
—
applied
to
any
drawback
on
my
Lady
.
”
“
I
beg
your
pardon
,
grandmother
.
But
she
is
proud
,
is
she
not
?
”
“
If
she
is
,
she
has
reason
to
be
.
The
Dedlock
family
have
always
reason
to
be
.
”
“
Well
!
”
says
Watt
,
“
it
's
to
be
hoped
they
line
out
of
their
Prayer-Books
a
certain
passage
for
the
common
people
about
pride
and
vainglory
.
Forgive
me
,
grandmother
!
Only
a
joke
!
”
“
Sir
Leicester
and
Lady
Dedlock
,
my
dear
,
are
not
fit
subjects
for
joking
.
”
“
Sir
Leicester
is
no
joke
,
by
any
means
,
”
says
Watt
;
“
and
I
humbly
ask
his
pardon
.
I
suppose
,
grandmother
,
that
,
even
with
the
family
and
their
guests
down
here
,
there
is
no
objection
to
my
prolonging
my
stay
at
the
Dedlock
Arms
for
a
day
or
two
,
as
any
other
traveller
might
?
”
“
Surely
,
none
in
the
world
,
child
.
”
“
I
am
glad
of
that
,
”
says
Watt
,
“
because
I
—
because
I
have
an
inexpressible
desire
to
extend
my
knowledge
of
this
beautiful
neighbourhood
.
”
He
happens
to
glance
at
Rosa
,
who
looks
down
,
and
is
very
shy
,
indeed
.
But
,
according
to
the
old
superstition
,
it
should
be
Rosa
's
ears
that
burn
,
and
not
her
fresh
bright
cheeks
;
for
my
Lady
's
maid
is
holding
forth
about
her
at
this
moment
,
with
surpassing
energy
.
My
Lady
's
maid
is
a
Frenchwoman
of
two-and-thirty
,
from
somewhere
in
the
Southern
country
about
Avignon
and
Marseilles
—
a
large-eyed
brown
woman
with
black
hair
;
who
would
be
handsome
,
but
for
a
certain
feline
mouth
,
and
general
uncomfortable
tightness
of
face
,
rendering
the
jaws
too
eager
,
and
the
skull
too
prominent
.
There
is
something
indefinably
keen
and
wan
about
her
anatomy
;
and
she
has
a
watchful
way
of
looking
out
of
the
corners
of
her
eyes
without
turning
her
head
,
which
could
be
pleasantly
dispensed
with
—
especially
when
she
is
in
an
ill-humour
and
near
knives
.
Through
all
the
good
taste
of
her
dress
and
little
adornments
,
these
objections
so
express
themselves
,
that
she
seems
to
go
about
like
a
very
neat
She-Wolf
imperfectly
tamed
.
Besides
being
accomplished
in
all
the
knowledge
appertaining
to
her
post
,
she
is
almost
an
English-woman
in
her
acquaintance
with
the
language
—
consequently
,
she
is
in
no
want
of
words
to
shower
upon
Rosa
for
having
attracted
my
Lady
's
attention
;
and
she
pours
them
out
with
such
grim
ridicule
as
she
sits
at
dinner
,
that
her
companion
,
the
affectionate
man
,
is
rather
relieved
when
she
arrives
at
the
spoon
stage
of
that
performance
.
Ha
,
ha
,
ha
!
She
,
Hortense
,
been
in
my
Lady
's
service
since
five
years
,
and
always
kept
at
the
distance
,
and
this
doll
,
this
puppet
caressed
—
absolutely
caressed
—
by
my
Lady
on
the
moment
of
her
arriving
at
the
house
!
Ha
,
ha
!
ha
!
“
And
do
you
know
how
pretty
you
are
child
?
”
—
“
No
,
my
Lady
.
”
—
You
are
right
there
!
“
And
how
old
are
you
,
child
?
And
take
care
they
do
not
spoil
you
by
flattery
,
child
!
O
how
droll
!
It
is
the
best
thing
altogether
.
In
short
,
it
is
such
an
admirable
thing
,
that
Mademoiselle
Hortens
ca
n't
forget
it
;
but
at
meals
for
days
afterwards
,
even
among
her
countrywomen
and
others
attached
in
like
capacity
to
the
troop
of
visitors
,
relapses
into
silent
enjoyment
of
the
joke
—
an
enjoyment
expressed
,
in
her
own
convivial
manner
,
by
an
additional
tightness
of
face
,
thin
elongation
of
compressed
lips
,
and
sidewise
look
:
which
intense
appreciation
of
humour
is
frequently
reflected
in
my
Lady
's
mirrors
,
when
my
Lady
is
not
among
them
.
All
the
mirrors
in
the
house
are
brought
into
action
now
:
many
of
them
after
a
long
blank
.
They
reflect
handsome
faces
,
simpering
faces
,
youthful
faces
,
faces
of
threescore-and-ten
that
will
not
submit
to
be
old
;
the
entire
collection
of
faces
that
have
come
to
pass
a
January
week
or
two
at
Chesney
Wold
,
and
which
the
fashionable
intelligence
,
a
mighty
hunter
before
the
Lord
,
hunts
with
a
keen
scent
,
from
their
breaking
cover
at
the
Court
of
Saint
James
's
to
their
being
run
down
to
Death
.
The
place
in
Lincolnshire
is
all
alive
.
By
day
,
guns
and
voices
are
heard
ringing
in
the
woods
,
horsemen
and
carriages
enliven
the
parkroads
,
servants
and
hangers-on
pervade
the
Village
and
the
Dedlock
Arms
.
Seen
by
night
,
from
distant
openings
in
the
trees
,
the
row
of
windows
in
the
long
drawing-room
,
where
my
Lady
's
picture
hangs
over
the
great
chimney-piece
,
is
like
a
row
of
jewels
set
in
a
black
frame
.
On
Sunday
,
the
chill
little
church
is
almost
warmed
by
so
much
gallant
company
,
and
the
general
flavor
of
the
Dedlock
dust
is
quenched
in
delicate
perfumes
.
The
brilliant
and
distinguished
circle
comprehends
within
it
,
no
contracted
amount
of
education
,
sense
,
courage
,
honor
,
beauty
,
and
virtue
.
Yet
there
is
something
a
little
wrong
about
it
,
in
despite
of
its
immense
advantages
.
What
can
it
be
?
Dandyism
?
There
is
no
King
George
the
Fourth
now
(
more
's
the
pity
!
)
to
set
the
dandy
fashion
;
there
are
no
clear-starched
jack-towel
neckcloths
,
no
short-waisted
coats
,
no
false
calves
,
no
stays
.
There
are
no
caricatures
,
now
,
of
effeminate
Exquisites
so
arrayed
,
swooning
in
opera
boxes
with
excess
of
delight
,
and
being
revived
by
other
dainty
creatures
,
poking
long-necked
scent-bottles
at
their
noses
.
There
is
no
beau
whom
it
takes
four
men
at
once
to
shake
into
his
buckskins
,
or
who
goes
to
see
all
the
Executions
,
or
who
is
troubled
with
the
self-reproach
of
having
once
consumed
a
pea
.
But
is
there
Dandyism
in
the
brilliant
and
distinguished
circle
notwithstanding
,
Dandyism
of
a
more
mischievous
sort
,
that
has
got
below
the
surface
and
is
doing
less
harmless
things
than
jack-towelling
itself
and
stopping
its
own
digestion
,
to
which
no
rational
person
need
particularly
object
?
Why
,
yes
.
It
