ourfriend
in
the
city
?
”
suggests
Mr.
George
,
composedly
drinking
.
“
Ay
,
if
you
like
.
What
two
reasons
?
”
“
In
the
first
place
,
”
returns
Mr.
George
;
but
still
looking
at
Judy
,
as
if
,
she
being
so
old
and
so
like
her
grandfather
,
it
is
indifferent
which
of
the
two
he
addresses
;
“
you
gentlemen
took
me
in
.
You
advertised
that
Mr.
Hawdon
(
Captain
Hawdon
,
if
you
hold
to
the
saying
,
Once
a
captain
always
a
captain
)
was
to
hear
of
something
to
his
advantage
.
”
“
Well
?
”
returns
the
old
man
,
shrilly
and
sharply
.
“
Well
!
”
says
Mr.
George
,
smoking
on
.
“
It
would
n't
have
been
much
to
his
advantage
to
have
been
clapped
into
prison
by
the
whole
bill
and
judgment
trade
of
London
.
”
“
How
do
you
know
that
?
Some
of
his
rich
relations
might
have
paid
his
debts
,
or
compounded
for
'
em
.
Besides
,
he
had
taken
us
in
.
He
owed
us
immense
sums
,
all
round
.
I
would
sooner
have
strangled
him
than
had
no
return
.
It
I
sit
here
thinking
of
him
,
”
snarls
the
old
man
,
holding
up
his
impotent
ten
fingers
,
“
I
want
to
strangle
him
now
.
”
And
in
a
sudden
access
of
fury
,
he
throws
the
cushion
at
the
unoffending
Mrs.
Smallweed
,
but
it
passes
harmlessly
on
one
side
of
her
chair
.
“
I
do
n't
need
to
be
told
,
”
returns
the
trooper
,
taking
his
pipe
from
his
lips
for
a
moment
,
and
carrying
his
eyes
back
from
following
the
progress
of
the
cushion
,
to
the
pipe-bowl
which
is
burning
low
,
“
that
he
carried
on
heavily
and
went
to
ruin
.
I
have
been
at
his
right
hand
many
a
day
,
when
he
was
charging
upon
ruin
full-gallop
.
I
was
with
him
,
when
he
was
sick
and
well
,
rich
and
poor
.
I
laid
this
hand
upon
him
,
after
he
had
run
through
everything
and
broken
down
everything
beneath
him
—
when
he
held
a
pistol
to
his
head
.
”
“
I
wish
he
had
let
it
off
!
”
says
the
benevolent
old
man
,
“
and
blown
his
head
into
as
many
pieces
as
he
owed
pounds
!
”
“
That
would
have
been
a
smash
indeed
,
”
returns
the
trooper
coolly
;
“
any
way
,
he
had
been
young
,
hopeful
,
and
handsome
in
the
days
gone
by
;
and
I
am
glad
I
never
found
him
,
when
he
was
neither
,
to
lead
to
a
result
so
much
to
his
advantage
.
That
's
reason
number
one
.
”
“
I
hope
number
two
's
as
good
?
”
snarls
the
old
man
.
“
Why
,
no.
It
's
more
of
a
selfish
reason
.
If
I
had
found
him
,
I
must
have
gone
to
the
other
world
to
look
.
He
was
there
.
“
How
do
you
know
he
was
there
?
”
“
He
was
n't
here
.
”
“
How
do
you
know
he
was
n't
here
?
”
“
Do
n't
lose
your
temper
as
well
as
your
money
,
”
says
Mr.
George
,
calmly
knocking
the
ashes
out
of
his
pipe
.
“
He
was
drowned
long
before
.
I
am
convinced
of
it
.
He
went
over
a
ship
's
side
.
Whether
intentionally
or
accidentally
,
I
do
n't
know
.
Perhaps
your
friend
in
the
city
does
.
—
Do
you
know
what
that
tune
is
,
Mr.
Smallweed
?
”
he
adds
,
after
breaking
off
to
whistle
one
,
accompanied
on
the
table
with
the
empty
pipe
.
“
Tune
!
”
replies
the
old
man
.
“
No.
We
never
have
tunes
here
.
”
“
That
's
the
Dead
March
in
Saul
.
They
bury
soldiers
to
it
;
so
it
's
the
natural
end
of
the
subject
.
Now
,
if
your
pretty
grand-daughter
—
excuse
me
,
miss
—
will
condescend
to
take
care
of
this
pipe
for
two
months
,
we
shall
save
the
cost
of
one
,
next
time
.
Good
evening
,
Mr.
Smallweed
!
”
“
My
dear
friend
!
”
The
old
man
gives
him
both
his
hands
.
“
So
you
think
your
friend
in
the
city
will
be
hard
upon
me
,
if
I
fail
in
a
payment
?
”
says
the
trooper
,
looking
down
upon
him
like
a
giant
.
“
My
dear
friend
,
I
am
afraid
he
will
,
”
returns
the
old
man
looking
up
at
him
like
a
pigmy
.
Mr.
George
laughs
;
and
with
a
glance
at
Mr.
Smallweed
,
and
a
parting
salutation
to
the
scornful
Judy
,
strides
out
of
the
parlor
,
clashing
imaginary
sabres
and
other
metallic
appurtenances
as
he
goes
.
“
You
're
a
damned
rogue
,
”
says
the
old
gentleman
,
making
a
hideous
grimace
at
the
door
as
he
shuts
it
.
“
But
I
'll
lime
you
,
you
dog
,
I
'll
lime
you
!
”
After
this
amiable
remark
,
his
spirit
soars
into
those
enchanting
regions
of
reflection
which
its
education
and
pursuits
have
opened
to
it
;
and
again
he
and
Mrs.
Smallweed
wile
away
the
rosy
hours
,
two
unrelieved
sentinels
forgotten
as
aforesaid
by
the
Black
Serjeant
.
While
the
twain
are
faithful
to
their
post
,
Mr.
George
strides
through
the
streets
with
a
massive
kind
of
swagger
and
a
grave-enough
face
.
It
is
eight
o'clock
now
,
and
the
day
is
fast
drawing
in
.
He
stops
hard
by
Waterloo
Bridge
,
and
reads
a
playbill
;
decides
to
go
to
Astley
's
Theatre
.
Being
there
,
is
much
delighted
with
the
horses
and
the
feats
of
strength
;
looks
at
the
weapons
with
a
critical
eye
;
disapproves
of
the
combats
,
as
giving
evidences
of
unskilful
swordsmanship
;
but
is
touched
home
by
the
sentiments
.
In
the
last
scene
,
when
the
Emperor
of
Tartary
gets
up
into
a
cart
and
condescends
to
bless
the
united
lovers
,
by
hovering
over
them
with
the
Union-Jack
,
his
eye-lashes
are
moistened
with
emotion
.
The
theatre
over
,
Mr.
George
comes
across
the
water
again
,
and
makes
his
way
to
that
curious
region
lying
about
the
Haymarket
and
Leicester
Square
,
which
is
a
centre
of
attraction
to
indifferent
foreign
hotels
and
indifferent
foreigners
,
racket-courts
,
fighting-men
,
swordsmen
,
footguards
,
old
china
,
gaming
houses
,
exhibitions
,
and
a
large
medley
of
shabbiness
and
shrinking
out
of
sight
.
Penetrating
to
the
heart
of
this
region
,
he
arrives
,
by
a
court
and
a
long
whitewashed
passage
,
at
a
great
brick
building
,
composed
of
bare
walls
,
floor
,
roof-rafters
,
and
skylights
;
on
the
front
of
which
,
if
it
can
be
said
to
have
any
front
,
is
painted
GEORGE
'S
SHOOTING
GALLERY
,
+C
.
Into
George
's
Shooting
Gallery
,
etc.
,
he
goes
;
and
in
it
there
are
gaslights
(
partly
turned
off
now
)
,
and
two
whitened
targets
for
rifle-shooting
,
and
archery
accommodation
,
and
fencing
appliances
,
and
all
necessaries
for
the
British
art
of
boxing
.
None
of
these
sports
or
exercises
are
being
pursued
in
George
's
Shooting
Gallery
to-night
;
which
is
so
devoid
of
company
,
that
a
little
grotesque
man
,
with
a
large
head
,
has
it
all
to
himself
,
and
lies
asleep
upon
the
floor
.
The
little
man
is
dressed
something
like
a
gunsmith
,
in
a
green
baize
apron
and
cap
;
and
his
face
and
hands
are
dirty
with
gunpowder
,
and
begrimed
with
the
loading
of
guns
.
As
he
lies
in
the
light
,
before
a
glaring
white
target
,
the
black
upon
him
shines
again
.
Not
far
off
,
is
the
strong
,
rough
,
primitive
table
,
with
a
vice
upon
it
,
at
which
he
has
been
working
.
He
is
a
little
man
with
a
face
all
crushed
together
,
who
appears
,
from
a
certain
blue
and
speckled
appearance
that
one
of
his
cheeks
presents
,
to
have
been
blown
up
,
in
the
way
of
business
,
at
some
odd
time
or
times
.
“
Phil
!
”
says
the
trooper
,
in
a
quiet
voice
.
“
All
right
!
”
cries
Phil
,
scrambling
to
his
feet
.
“
Anything
been
doing
?
”
“
Flat
as
ever
so
much
swipes
,
”
says
Phil
.
“
Five
dozen
rifle
and
a
dozen
pistol
.
As
to
aim
!
”
Phil
gives
a
howl
at
the
recollection
.
“
Shut
up
shop
,
Phil
!
”
As
Phil
moves
about
to
execute
this
order
,
it
appears
that
he
is
lame
,
though
able
to
move
very
quickly
.
On
the
speckled
side
of
his
face
he
has
no
eyebrow
,
and
on
the
other
side
he
has
a
bushy
black
one
,
which
want
of
uniformity
gives
him
a
very
singular
and
rather
sinister
appearance
.
Everything
seems
to
have
happened
to
his
hands
that
could
possibly
take
place
,
consistently
with
the
retention
of
all
the
fingers
;
for
they
are
notched
,
and
seamed
,
and
crumpled
all
over
.
He
appears
to
be
very
strong
,
and
lifts
heavy
benches
about
as
if
he
had
no
idea
what
weight
was
.
He
has
a
curious
way
of
limping
round
the
gallery
with
his
shoulder
against
the
wall
,
and
tacking
off
at
objects
he
wants
to
lay
hold
of
,
instead
of
going
straight
to
them
,
which
has
left
a
smear
all
round
the
four
walls
,
conventionally
called
“
Phil
's
mark
.
”
This
custodian
of
George
's
Gallery
in
George
's
absence
concludes
his
proceedings
,
when
he
has
locked
the
great
doors
,
and
turned
out
all
the
lights
but
one
,
which
he
leaves
to
glimmer
,
by
dragging
out
from
a
wooden
cabin
in
a
corner
two
mattresses
and
bedding
.
These
being
drawn
to
opposite
ends
of
the
gallery
,
the
trooper
makes
his
own
bed
,
and
Phil
makes
his
.
“
Phil
!
”
says
the
master
,
walking
towards
him
without
his
coat
and
waistcoat
,
and
looking
more
soldierly
than
ever
in
his
braces
.
“
You
were
found
in
a
doorway
,
were
n't
you
.
”
“
Gutter
,
”
says
Phil
.
“
Watchman
tumbled
over
me
.
”
“
Then
,
vagabondizing
came
natural
to
you
,
from
the
beginning
.
”
“
As
nat'ral
as
possible
,
”
says
Phil
.
“
Good
night
!
”
“
Good
night
,
guv'ner
.
”
Phil
cannot
even
go
straight
to
bed
,
but
finds
if
necessary
to
shoulder
round
two
sides
of
the
gallery
,
and
then
tack
off
at
his
mattress
.
The
trooper
,
after
taking
a
turn
or
two
in
the
rifle-distance
,
and
looking
up
at
the
moon
now
shining
through
the
skylights
,
strides
to
his
own
mattress
by
a
shorter
route
,
and
goes
to
bed
too
.
CHAPTER
XXII
.
MR.
BUCKET
.
ALLEGORY
looks
pretty
cool
in
Lincoln
's
Inn
Fields
,
though
the
evening
is
hot
;
for
,
both
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
's
windows
are
wide
open
,
and
the
room
is
lofty
,
gusty
,
and
gloomy
.
These
may
not
be
desirable
characteristics
when
November
comes
with
fog
and
sleet
,
or
January
with
ice
and
snow
;
but
they
have
their
merits
in
the
sultry
long
vacation
weather
.
They
enable
Allegory
,
though
it
has
cheeks
like
peaches
,
and
knees
like
bunches
of
blossoms
,
and
rosy
swellings
for
calves
to
its
legs
and
muscles
to
its
arms
,
to
look
tolerably
cool
to-night
.
Plenty
of
dust
comes
in
at
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
's
windows
,
and
plenty
more
has
generated
among
his
furniture
and
papers
.
It
lies
thick
everywhere
.
When
a
breeze
from
the
country
that
has
lost
its
way
,
takes
fright
,
and
makes
a
blind
hurry
to
rush
out
again
,
it
flings
as
much
dust
in
the
eyes
of
Allegory
as
the
law
—
or
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
,
one
of
its
trustiest
representatives
—
may
scatter
,
on
occasion
,
in
the
eyes
of
the
laity
.
In
his
lowering
magazine
of
dust
,
the
universal
article
into
which
his
papers
and
himself
,
and
all
his
clients
,
and
all
things
of
earth
,
animate
and
inanimate
,
are
resolving
,
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
sits
at
one
of
the
open
windows
,
enjoying
a
bottle
of
old
port
.
Though
a
hard-grained
man
,
close
,
dry
,
and
silent
,
he
can
enjoy
old
wine
with
the
best
.
He
has
a
priceless
binn
of
port
in
some
artful
cellar
under
the
Fields
,
which
is
one
of
his
many
secrets
.
When
he
dines
alone
in
chambers
,
as
he
has
dined
to-day
,
and
has
his
bit
of
fish
and
his
steak
or
chicken
brought
in
from
the
coffee-house
,
he
descends
with
a
candle
to
the
echoing
regions
below
the
deserted
mansion
,
and
,
heralded
by
a
remote
reverberation
of
thundering
doors
,
comes
gravely
back
,
encircled
by
an
earthy
atmosphere
,
and
carrying
a
bottle
from
which
he
pours
a
radiant
nectar
,
two
score
and
ten
years
old
,
that
blushes
in
the
glass
to
find
itself
so
famous
,
and
fills
the
whole
room
with
the
fragrance
of
southern
grapes
.
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
,
sitting
in
the
twilight
by
the
open
window
,
enjoys
his
wine
.
As
if
it
whispered
to
him
of
its
fifty
years
'
of
silence
and
seclusion
,
it
shuts
him
up
the
closer
.
More
impenetrable
than
ever
,
he
sits
,
and
drinks
,
and
mellows
as
it
were
in
secresy
;
pondering
,
at
that
twilight
hour
,
on
all
the
mysteries
he
knows
,
associated
with
darkening
woods
in
the
country
,
and
vast
blank
shut-up
houses
in
town
;
and
perhaps
sparing
a
thought
or
two
for
himself
,
and
his
family
history
,
and
his
money
,
and
his
will
—
all
a
mystery
to
everyone
—
and
that
one
bachelor
friend
of
his
,
a
man
of
the
same
mould
and
a
lawyer
too
,
who
lived
the
same
kind
of
life
until
he
was
seventy-five
years
old
,
and
then
,
suddenly
conceiving
(
as
it
is
supposed
)
an
impression
that
it
was
too
monotonous
,
gave
his
gold
watch
to
his
hair-dresser
one
summer
evening
,
and
walked
leisurely
home
to
the
Temple
,
and
hanged
himself
.
But
,
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
is
not
alone
to-night
,
to
ponder
at
his
usual
length
.
Seated
at
the
same
table
,
though
with
his
chair
modestly
and
uncomfortably
drawn
a
little
away
from
it
,
sits
a
bald
,
mild
,
shining
man
,
who
coughs
respectfully
behind
his
hand
when
the
lawyer
bids
him
fill
his
glass
.
“
Now
,
Snagsby
,
”
says
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
,
“
to
go
over
this
odd
story
again
.
”
“
If
you
please
,
sir
.
”
“
You
told
me
when
you
were
so
good
as
to
step
round
here
,
last
night
—
”
“
For
which
I
must
ask
you
to
excuse
me
if
it
was
a
liberty
,
sir
;
but
I
remembered
that
you
had
taken
a
sort
of
an
interest
in
that
person
,
and
I
thought
it
possible
that
you
might
—
just
—
wish
—
to
—
”
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
is
not
the
man
to
help
him
to
any
conclusion
,
or
to
admit
anything
as
to
any
possibility
concerning
himself
.
So
Mr.
Snagsby
trails
off
into
saying
,
with
an
awkward
cough
,
“
I
must
ask
you
to
excuse
the
liberty
,
sir
,
I
am
sure
.
”
“
Not
at
all
,
”
says
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
.
“
You
told
me
,
Snagsby
,
that
you
put
on
your
hat
and
came
round
without
mentioning
your
intention
to
your
wife
.
That
was
prudent
I
think
,
because
it
's
not
a
matter
of
such
importance
that
it
requires
to
be
mentioned
.
”
“
Well
,
sir
,
”
returns
Mr.
Snagsby
,
“
you
see
my
little
woman
is
—
not
to
put
too
fine
a
point
upon
it
—
inquisitive
.
She
's
inquisitive
.
Poor
little
thing
,
she
's
liable
to
spasms
,
and
it
's
good
for
her
to
have
her
mind
employed
.
In
consequence
of
which
,
she
employs
it
—
I
should
say
upon
every
individual
thing
she
can
lay
hold
of
,
whether
it
concerns
her
or
not
—
especially
not
.
My
little
woman
has
a
very
active
mind
,
sir
.
”
Mr.
Snagsby
drinks
,
and
murmurs
with
an
admiring
cough
behind
his
hand
.
“
Dear
me
,
very
fine
wine
indeed
!
”
“
Therefore
you
kept
your
visit
to
yourself
,
last
night
?
”
says
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
.
“
And
to-night
,
too
?
”
“
Yes
,
sir
,
and
to-night
,
too
.
My
little
woman
is
at
present
in
—
not
to
put
too
fine
a
point
upon
it
—
in
a
pious
state
,
or
in
what
she
considers
such
,
and
attends
the
Evening
Exertions
(
which
is
the
name
they
go
by
)
of
a
reverend
party
of
the
name
of
Chadband
.
He
has
a
great
deal
of
eloquence
at
his
command
,
undoubtedly
,
but
I
am
not
quite
favourable
to
his
style
myself
.
That
's
neither
here
nor
there
.
My
little
woman
being
engaged
in
that
way
,
made
it
easier
for
me
to
step
round
in
a
quiet
manner
.
”
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
assents
.
“
Fill
your
glass
,
Snagsby
.
”
“
Thank
you
,
sir
,
I
am
sure
,
”
returns
the
stationer
,
with
his
cough
of
deference
.
“
This
is
wonderfully
fine
wine
,
sir
!
”
“
It
is
a
rare
wine
now
,
”
says
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
.
“
It
is
fifty
years
old
.
”
“
Is
it
indeed
,
sir
?
But
I
am
not
surprised
to
hear
it
,
I
am
sure
.
It
might
be
—
any
age
almost
.
”
After
rendering
this
general
tribute
to
the
port
,
Mr.
Snagsby
in
his
modesty
coughs
an
apology
behind
his
hand
for
drinking
anything
so
precious
.
“
Will
you
run
over
,
once
again
,
what
the
boy
said
?
”
asks
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
,
putting
his
hands
into
the
pockets
of
his
rusty
smallclothes
and
leaning
quietly
back
in
his
chair
.
“
With
pleasure
,
sir
.
”
Then
,
with
fidelity
,
though
with
some
prolixity
,
the
law-stationer
repeats
Joe
's
statement
made
to
the
assembled
guests
at
his
house
.
On
coming
to
the
end
of
his
narrative
,
he
gives
a
great
start
,
and
breaks
off
with
—
“
Dear
me
,
sir
,
I
was
n't
aware
there
was
any
other
gentleman
present
!
”
Mr.
Snagsby
is
dismayed
to
see
,
standing
with
an
attentive
face
between
himself
and
the
lawyer
,
at
a
little
distance
from
the
table
,
a
person
with
a
hat
and
stick
in
his
hand
who
was
not
there
when
he
himself
came
in
,
and
has
not
since
entered
by
the
door
or
by
either
of
the
windows
.
There
is
a
press
in
the
room
,
but
its
hinges
have
not
creaked
,
nor
has
a
step
audible
upon
the
floor
.
Yet
this
third
person
stands
there
,
with
his
attentive
face
,
and
his
hat
and
stick
in
his
hands
,
and
his
hands
behind
him
,
a
composed
and
quiet
listener
.
He
is
a
stoutly-built
,
steady-looking
,
sharp-eyed
man
in
black
,
of
about
the
middle
age
.
Except
that
he
looks
at
Mr.
Snagsby
as
if
he
were
going
to
take
his
portrait
,
there
is
nothing
remarkable
about
him
at
first
sight
but
his
ghostly
manner
of
appearing
.
“
Do
n't
mind
this
gentleman
,
”
says
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
,
in
his
quiet
way
.
“
This
is
only
Mr.
Bucket
.
”
“
O
indeed
,
sir
?
”
returns
the
stationer
,
expressing
by
a
cough
that
he
is
quite
in
the
dark
as
to
who
Mr.
Bucket
may
be
.
“
I
wanted
him
to
hear
this
story
,
”
says
the
lawyer
,
“
because
I
have
half
a
mind
(
for
a
reason
)
to
know
more
of
it
,
and
he
is
very
intelligent
in
such
things
.
What
do
you
say
to
this
,
Bucket
?
”
“
It
's
very
plain
,
sir
.
Since
our
people
have
moved
this
boy
on
,
and
he
's
not
to
be
found
on
his
old
lay
,
if
Mr.
Snagsby
do
n't
object
to
go
down
with
me
to
Tom-all-Alone
's
and
point
him
out
,
we
can
have
him
here
in
less
than
a
couple
of
hours
'
time
.
I
can
do
it
without
Mr.
Snagsby
,
of
course
;
but
this
is
the
shortest
way
.
“
Mr.
Bucket
is
a
detective
officer
,
Snagsby
,
”
says
the
lawyer
in
explanation
.
“
Is
he
indeed
,
sir
?
”
says
Mr.
Snagsby
,
with
a
strong
tendency
in
his
clump
of
hair
to
stand
on
end
.
“
And
if
you
have
no
real
objection
to
accompany
Mr.
Bucket
to
the
place
in
question
,
”
pursues
the
lawyer
,
“
I
shall
feel
obliged
to
you
if
you
will
do
so
.
”
In
a
moment
's
hesitation
on
the
part
of
Mr.
Snagsby
,
Bucket
dips
down
to
the
bottom
of
his
mind
.
“
Do
n't
you
be
afraid
of
hurting
the
boy
,
”
he
says
.
“
You
wo
n't
do
that
.
It
's
all
right
as
far
as
the
boy
's
concerned
.
We
shall
only
bring
him
here
to
ask
him
a
question
or
so
I
want
to
put
to
him
,
and
he
'll
be
paid
for
his
trouble
,
and
sent
away
again
.
It
'll
be
a
good
job
for
him
.
I
promise
you
,
as
a
man
,
that
you
shall
see
the
boy
sent
away
all
right
.
Do
n't
you
be
afraid
of
hurting
him
;
you
a
n't
going
to
do
that
.
”
“
Very
well
,
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
!
”
cries
Mr.
Snagsby
cheerfully
,
and
re-assured
,
“
since
that
's
the
case
—
.
”
“
Yes
!
and
lookee
here
,
Mr.
Snagsby
,
”
resumes
Bucket
,
taking
him
aside
by
the
arm
,
tapping
him
familiarly
on
the
breast
,
and
speaking
in
a
confidential
tone
.
“
You
're
a
man
of
the
world
,
you
know
,
and
a
man
of
business
,
and
a
man
of
sense
.
That
's
what
you
are
.
”
“
I
am
sure
I
am
much
obliged
to
you
for
your
good
opinion
,
”
returns
the
stationer
,
with
his
cough
of
modesty
,
“
but
—
”
“
That
's
what
you
are
,
you
know
,
”
says
Bucket
.
“
Now
,
it
a
n't
necessary
to
say
to
a
man
like
you
,
engaged
in
your
business
,
which
is
a
business
of
trust
and
requires
a
person
to
be
wide
awake
and
have
his
senses
about
him
,
and
his
head
screwed
on
tight
(
I
had
an
uncle
in
your
business
once
)
—
it
a
n't
necessary
to
say
to
a
man
like
you
,
that
it
's
the
best
and
wisest
way
to
keep
little
matters
like
this
quiet
.
Do
n't
you
see
?
Quiet
!
”
“
Certainly
,
certainly
,
”
returns
the
stationer
.
“
I
do
n't
mind
telling
you
,
”
says
Bucket
,
with
an
engaging
appearance
of
frankness
,
“
that
,
as
far
as
I
can
understand
it
,
there
seems
to
be
a
doubt
whether
this
dead
person
was
n't
entitled
to
a
little
property
,
and
whether
this
female
has
n't
been
up
to
some
games
respecting
that
property
,
do
n't
you
see
!
”
“
O
!
”
says
Mr.
Snagsby
,
but
not
appearing
to
see
quite
distinctly
.
“
Now
,
what
you
want
,
”
pursues
Bucket
,
again
tapping
Mr.
Snagsby
on
the
breast
in
a
comfortable
soothing
manner
,
“
is
,
that
every
person
should
have
their
rights
according
to
justice
.
That
's
what
you
want
.
”
“
To
be
sure
,
”
returns
Mr.
Snagsby
with
a
nod
.
“
On
account
of
which
,
and
at
the
same
time
to
oblige
a
—
do
you
call
it
,
in
your
business
,
customer
or
client
?
I
forget
how
my
uncle
used
to
call
it
.
”
“
Why
,
I
generally
say
customer
myself
,
”
replies
Mr.
Snagsby
.
“
You
're
right
!
”
returns
Mr.
Bucket
,
shaking
hands
with
him
quite
affectionately
,
—
“
on
account
of
which
,
and
at
the
same
time
to
oblige
a
real
good
customer
,
you
mean
to
go
down
with
me
,
in
confidence
,
to
Tom-all-Alone
's
,
and
to
keep
the
whole
thing
quiet
ever
afterwards
and
never
mention
it
to
any
one
.
That
's
about
your
intentions
,
if
I
understand
you
?
”
“
You
are
right
,
sir
.
You
are
right
,
”
says
Mr.
Snagsby
.
“
Then
here
's
your
hat
,
”
returns
his
new
friend
,
quite
as
intimate
with
it
as
if
he
had
made
it
;
“
and
if
you
're
ready
,
I
am
.
”
They
leave
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
,
without
a
ruffle
on
the
surface
of
his
unfathomable
depths
,
drinking
his
old
wine
,
and
go
down
into
the
streets
.
“
You
do
n't
happen
to
know
a
very
good
sort
of
person
of
the
name
of
Gridley
,
do
you
?
”
says
Bucket
,
in
friendly
converse
as
they
descend
the
stairs
.
“
No
,
”
says
Mr.
Snagsby
,
considering
,
“
I
do
n't
know
anybody
of
that
name
.
Why
?
”
“
Nothing
particular
,
”
says
Bucket
;
“
only
,
having
allowed
his
temper
to
get
a
little
the
better
of
him
,
and
having
been
threatening
some
respectable
people
,
he
is
keeping
out
of
the
way
of
a
warrant
I
have
got
against
him
—
which
it
's
a
pity
that
a
man
of
sense
should
do
.
”
As
they
walk
along
,
Mr.
Snagsby
observes
,
as
a
novelty
,
that
,
however
quick
their
pace
may
be
,
his
companion
still
seems
in
some
undefinable
manner
to
lurk
and
lounge
;
also
,
that
whenever
he
is
going
to
turn
to
the
right
or
left
,
he
pretends
to
have
a
fixed
purpose
in
his
mind
of
going
straight
ahead
,
and
wheels
off
,
sharply
,
at
the
very
last
moment
.
Now
and
then
,
when
they
pass
a
police
constable
on
his
beat
,
Mr.
Snagsby
notices
that
both
the
constable
and
his
guide
fall
into
a
deep
abstraction
as
they
come
towards
each
other
,
and
appear
entirely
to
overlook
each
other
,
and
to
gaze
into
space
.
In
a
few
instances
,
Mr.
Bucket
,
coming
behind
some
under-sized
young
man
with
a
shining
hat
on
,
and
his
sleek
hair
twisted
into
one
flat
curl
on
each
side
of
his
head
,
almost
without
glancing
at
him
touches
him
with
his
stick
;
upon
which
the
young
man
,
looking
round
,
instantly
evaporates
.
For
the
most
part
Mr.
Bucket
notices
things
in
general
,
with
a
face
as
unchanging
as
the
great
mourning
ring
on
his
little
finger
,
or
the
brooch
,
composed
of
not
much
diamond
and
a
good
deal
of
setting
,
which
he
wears
in
his
shirt
.
When
they
come
at
last
to
Tom-all-Alone
's
,
Mr.
Bucket
stops
for
a
moment
at
the
corner
,
and
takes
a
lighted
bull's-eye
from
the
constable
on
duty
there
,
who
then
accompanies
him
with
his
own
particular
bull's-eye
at
his
waist
.
Between
his
two
conductors
,
Mr.
Snagsby
passes
along
the
middle
of
a
villainous
street
,
undrained
,
unventilated
,
deep
in
black
mud
and
corrupt
water
—
though
the
roads
are
dry
elsewhere
—
and
reeking
with
such
smells
and
sights
that
he
,
who
has
lived
in
London
all
his
life
,
can
scarce
believe
his
senses
.
Branching
from
this
street
and
its
heaps
of
ruins
,
are
other
streets
and
courts
so
infamous
that
Mr.
Snagsby
sickens
in
body
and
mind
,
and
feels
as
if
he
were
going
,
every
moment
deeper
down
,
into
the
infernal
gulf
.
“
Draw
off
a
bit
here
,
Mr.
Snagsby
,
”
says
Bucket
,
as
a
kind
of
shabby
palanquin
is
borne
towards
them
,
surrounded
by
a
noisy
crowd
.
“
Here
's
the
fever
coming
up
the
street
!
”
As
the
unseen
wretch
goes
by
,
the
crowd
,
leaving
that
object
of
attraction
,
hovers
round
the
three
visitors
,
like
a
dream
of
horrible
faces
,
and
fades
away
up
alleys
and
into
ruins
,
and
behind
walls
;
and
with
occasional
cries
and
shrill
whistles
of
warning
,
thenceforth
flits
about
them
until
they
leave
the
place
.
“
Are
those
the
fever-houses
,
Darby
?
”
Mr.
Bucket
coolly
asks
,
as
he
turns
his
bull's-eye
on
a
line
of
stinking
ruins
.
Darby
replies
that
“
all
them
are
,
”
and
further
that
in
all
,
for
months
and
months
,
the
people
“
have
been
down
by
dozens
,
”
and
have
been
carried
out
,
dead
and
dying
“
like
sheep
with
the
rot
.
”
Bucket
observing
to
Mr.
Snagsby
as
they
go
on
again
,
that
he
looks
a
little
poorly
,
Mr.
Snagsby
answers
that
he
feels
as
if
he
could
n't
breathe
the
dreadful
air
.
There
is
inquiry
made
,
at
various
houses
,
for
a
boy
named
Jo
.
As
few
people
are
known
in
Tom-all-Alone
's
by
any
Christian
sign
,
there
is
much
reference
to
Mr.
Snagsby
whether
he
means
Carrots
,
or
the
Colonel
,
or
Gallows
,
or
Young
Chisel
,
or
Terrier
Tip
,
or
Lanky
,
or
the
Brick
.
Mr.
Snagsby
describes
over
and
over
again
.
There
are
conflicting
opinions
respecting
the
original
of
his
picture
.
Some
think
it
must
be
Carrots
;
some
say
the
Brick
.
The
Colonel
is
produced
,
but
is
not
at
all
near
the
thing
.
Whenever
Mr.
Snagsby
and
his
conductors
are
stationary
,
the
crowd
flows
round
,
and
from
its
squalid
depths
obsequious
advice
heaves
up
to
Mr.
Bucket
.
Whenever
they
move
,
and
the
angry
bull's-eyes
glare
,
it
fades
away
,
and
flits
about
them
up
the
alleys
,
and
in
the
ruins
,
and
behind
the
walls
,
as
before
.
At
last
there
is
a
lair
found
out
where
Toughy
,
or
the
Tough
Subject
,
lays
him
down
at
night
;
and
it
is
thought
that
the
Tough
Subject
may
be
Jo
.
Comparison
of
notes
between
Mr.
Snagsby
and
the
proprietress
of
the
house
—
a
drunken
face
tied
up
in
a
black
bundle
,
and
flaring
out
of
a
heap
of
rags
on
the
floor
of
a
dog-hutch
which
is
her
private
apartment
—
leads
to
the
establishment
of
this
conclusion
.
Toughy
has
gone
to
the
Doctor
's
to
get
a
bottle
of
stuff
for
a
sick
woman
,
but
will
be
here
anon
.
“
And
who
have
we
got
here
to-night
?
”
says
Mr.
Bucket
,
opening
another
door
and
glaring
in
with
his
bull's-eye
.
“
Two
drunken
men
,
eh
?
And
two
women
?
The
men
are
sound
enough
,
”
turning
back
each
sleeper
's
arm
from
his
face
to
look
at
him
.
“
Are
these
your
good
men
,
my
dears
?
”
“
Yes
,
sir
,
”
returns
one
of
the
women
.
“
They
are
our
husbands
.
”
“
Brickmakers
,
eh
”
“
Yes
,
sir
.
”
“
What
are
you
doing
here
?
You
do
n't
belong
to
London
.
”
“
No
,
sir
.
We
belong
to
Hertfordshire
.
”
“
Whereabouts
in
Hertfordshire
?
”
“
Saint
Albans
.
”
“
Come
up
on
the
tramp
?
”
“
We
walked
up
yesterday
.
There
's
no
work
down
with
us
at
present
,
but
we
have
done
no
good
by
coming
here
,
and
shall
do
none
I
expect
.
”
“
That
's
not
the
way
to
do
much
good
,
”
says
Mr.
Bucket
,
turning
his
head
in
the
direction
of
the
unconscious
figures
on
the
ground
.
“
It
a
n't
,
indeed
,
”
replies
the
woman
with
a
sigh
.
“
Jenny
and
me
knows
it
full
well
.
”
The
room
,
though
two
or
three
feet
higher
than
the
door
,
is
so
low
that
the
head
of
the
tallest
of
the
visitors
would
touch
the
blackened
ceiling
if
he
stood
upright
.
It
is
offensive
to
every
sense
;
even
the
gross
candle
burns
pale
and
sickly
in
the
polluted
air
.
There
are
a
couple
of
benches
,
and
a
higher
bench
by
way
of
table
.
The
men
lie
asleep
where
they
stumbled
down
,
but
the
women
sit
by
the
candle
.
Lying
in
the
arms
of
the
woman
who
has
spoken
,
is
a
very
young
child
.
“
Why
,
what
age
do
you
call
that
little
creature
?
”
says
Bucket
.
“
It
looks
as
if
it
was
born
yesterday
.
”
He
is
not
at
all
rough
about
it
;
and
as
he
turns
his
light
gently
on
the
infant
,
Mr.
Snagsby
is
strangely
reminded
of
another
infant
,
encircled
with
light
,
that
he
has
seen
in
pictures
.
“
He
is
not
three
weeks
old
yet
,
sir
,
”
says
the
woman
.
“
Is
he
your
child
?
”
“
Mine
.
”
The
other
woman
,
who
was
bending
over
it
when
they
came
in
,
stoops
down
again
,
and
kisses
it
as
it
lies
asleep
.
“
You
seem
as
fond
of
it
as
if
you
were
the
mother
yourself
,
”
says
Mr.
Bucket
.
“
I
was
the
mother
of
one
like
it
,
master
,
and
it
died
.
”
“
Ah
Jenny
,
Jenny
!
”
says
the
other
woman
to
her
;
“
better
so
.
Much
better
to
think
of
dead
than
alive
,
Jenny
!
Much
better
!
”
“
Why
,
you
a
n't
such
an
unnatural
woman
,
I
hope
,
”
returns
Bucket
,
sternly
,
“
as
to
wish
your
own
child
dead
?
”
“
God
knows
you
are
right
,
master
,
”
she
returns
.
“
I
am
not
.
I
'd
stand
between
it
and
death
,
with
my
own
life
if
I
could
,
as
true
as
any
pretty
lady
.
”
“
Then
do
n't
talk
in
that
wrong
manner
,
”
says
Mr.
Bucket
,
mollified
again
.
“
Why
do
you
do
it
?
”
“
It
's
brought
into
my
head
,
master
,
”
returns
the
woman
,
her
eyes
filling
with
tears
,
“
when
I
look
down
at
the
child
lying
so
.
If
it
was
never
to
wake
no
more
,
you
'd
think
me
mad
,
I
should
take
on
so
.
I
know
that
very
well
.
I
was
with
Jenny
when
she
lost
hers
—
war
n't
I
,
Jenny
?
—
and
I
know
how
she
grieved
.
But
look
round
you
,
at
this
place
.
Look
at
them
;
”
glancing
at
the
sleepers
on
the
ground
.
“
Look
at
the
boy
you
're
waiting
for
,
who
's
gone
out
to
do
me
a
good
turn
.
Think
of
the
children
that
your
business
lays
with
often
and
often
,
and
that
you
see
grow
up
!
”
“
Well
,
well
,
”
says
Mr.
Bucket
,
“
you
train
him
respectable
,
and
he
'll
be
a
comfort
to
you
,
and
look
after
you
in
your
old
age
,
you
know
.
”
“
I
mean
to
try
hard
,
”
she
answers
,
wiping
her
eyes
.
“
But
I
have
been
a
thinking
,
being
over-tired
to-night
,
and
not
well
with
the
ague
,
of
all
the
many
things
that
'll
come
in
his
way
.
My
master
will
be
against
it
,
and
he
'll
be
beat
,
and
see
me
beat
,
and
made
to
fear
his
home
,
and
perhaps
to
stray
wild
.
If
I
work
for
him
ever
so
much
,
and
ever
so
hard
,
there
's
no
one
to
help
me
;
and
if
he
should
be
turned
bad
,
'
spite
of
all
I
could
do
,
and
the
time
should
come
when
I
should
sit
by
him
in
his
sleep
,
made
hard
and
changed
,
a
n't
it
likely
I
should
think
of
him
as
he
lies
in
my
lap
now
,
and
wish
he
had
died
as
Jenny
's
child
died
!
”
“
There
,
there
!
”
says
Jenny
.
“
Liz
,
you
're
tired
and
ill.
Let
me
take
him
.
”
In
doing
so
,
she
displaces
the
mother
's
dress
,
but
quickly
readjusts
it
over
the
wounded
and
bruised
bosom
where
the
baby
has
been
lying
.
“
It
's
my
dead
child
,
”
says
Jenny
,
walking
up
and
down
as
she
nurses
,
“
that
makes
me
love
this
child
so
dear
,
and
it
's
my
dead
child
that
makes
her
love
it
so
dear
too
,
as
even
to
think
of
its
being
taken
away
from
her
now
.
While
she
thinks
that
,
I
think
what
fortune
would
I
give
to
have
my
darling
back
.
But
we
mean
the
same
thing
,
if
we
knew
how
to
say
it
,
us
two
mothers
does
in
our
poor
hearts
!
”
As
Mr.
Snagsby
blows
his
nose
,
and
coughs
his
cough
or
sympathy
,
a
step
is
heard
without
.
Mr.
Bucket
throws
his
light
into
the
doorway
,
and
says
to
Mr.
Snagsby
,
“
Now
,
what
do
you
say
to
Toughy
?
Will
he
do
?
”
“
That
's
Jo
!
”
says
Mr.
Snagsby
.
Jo
stands
amazed
in
the
disc
of
light
,
like
a
ragged
figure
in
a
magic
Ianthorn
,
trembling
to
think
that
he
has
offended
against
the
law
in
not
having
moved
on
far
enough
.
Mr.
Snagsby
,
however
,
giving
him
the
consolatory
assurance
,
“
It
's
only
a
job
you
will
be
paid
for
,
Jo
,
”
he
recovers
;
and
,
on
being
taken
outside
by
Mr.
Bucket
for
a
little
private
confabulation
,
tells
his
tale
satisfactorily
,
though
out
of
breath
.
“
I
have
squared
it
with
the
lad
,
”
says
Mr.
Bucket
,
returning
,
“
and
it
's
all
right
.
Now
,
Mr.
Snagsby
,
we
're
ready
for
you
.
”
First
,
Jo
has
to
complete
his
errand
of
good-nature
by
handing
over
the
physic
he
has
been
to
get
,
which
he
delivers
with
the
laconic
verbal
direction
that
“
it
's
to
be
all
took
d'rectly
.
”
Secondly
,
Mr.
Snagsby
has
to
lay
upon
the
table
half-a-crown
,
his
usual
panacea
for
an
immense
variety
of
afflictions
.
Thirdly
,
Mr.
Bucket
has
to
take
Jo
by
the
arm
a
little
above
the
elbow
and
walk
him
on
before
him
:
without
which
observance
,
neither
the
Tough
Subject
nor
any
other
subject
could
be
professionally
conducted
to
Lincoln
's
Inn
Fields
.
These
arrangements
completed
,
they
give
the
women
good
night
,
and
come
out
once
more
into
black
and
foul
Tom-all-Alone
's
.
By
the
noisome
ways
through
which
they
descended
into
that
pit
,
they
gradually
emerge
from
it
;
the
crowd
flitting
,
and
whistling
,
and
skulking
about
them
,
until
they
come
to
the
verge
,
where
restoration
of
the
bull's-eyes
is
made
to
Darby
.
Here
,
the
crowd
,
like
a
concourse
of
imprisoned
demons
,
turns
back
,
yelling
,
and
is
seen
no
more
.
Through
the
clearer
and
fresher
streets
,
never
so
clear
and
fresh
to
Mr.
Snagsby
's
mind
as
now
,
they
walk
and
ride
,
until
they
come
to
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
's
gate
.
As
they
ascend
the
dim
stairs
(
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
's
chambers
being
on
the
first
floor
)
,
Mr.
Bucket
mentions
that
he
has
the
key
of
the
outer
door
in
his
pocket
,
and
that
there
is
no
need
to
ring
.
For
a
man
so
expert
in
most
things
of
that
kind
,
Bucket
takes
time
to
open
the
door
,
and
makes
some
noise
too
.
It
may
be
that
he
sounds
a
note
of
preparation
.
Howbeit
,
they
come
at
last
into
the
hall
,
where
a
lamp
is
burning
,
and
so
into
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
's
usual
room
—
the
room
where
he
drank
his
old
wine
to-night
.
He
is
not
there
,
but
his
two
old-fashioned
candlesticks
are
;
and
the
room
is
tolerably
light
.
Mr.
Bucket
,
still
having
his
professional
hold
of
Jo
,
and
appearing
to
Mr.
Snagsby
to
possess
an
unlimited
number
of
eyes
,
makes
a
little
way
into
this
room
,
when
Jo
starts
,
and
stops
.
“
What
's
the
matter
?
”
says
Bucket
in
a
whisper
.
“
There
she
is
!
”
cries
Jo
.
“
Who
?
”
“
The
lady
!
”
A
female
figure
,
closely
veiled
,
stands
in
the
middle
of
the
room
,
where
the
light
falls
upon
it
.
It
is
quite
still
,
and
silent
.
The
front
of
the
figure
is
towards
them
,
but
it
takes
no
notice
of
their
entrance
,
and
remains
like
a
statue
.
“
Now
,
tell
me
,
”
says
Bucket
aloud
,
“
how
you
know
that
to
be
the
lady
.
”
“
I
know
the
wale
,
”
replies
Jo
,
staring
,
“
and
the
bonnet
,
and
the
gownd
.
”
“
Be
quite
sure
of
what
you
say
,
Tough
,
”
returns
Bucket
,
narrowly
observant
of
him
.
“
Look
again
.
”
“
I
am
a
looking
as
hard
as
ever
I
can
look
,
”
says
Jo
,
with
starting
eyes
,
“
and
that
there
's
the
wale
,
the
bonnet
,
and
the
gownd
.
”
“
What
about
those
rings
you
told
me
of
?
”
asks
Bucket
.
“
A
sparkling
all
over
here
,
”
says
Jo
,
rubbing
the
fingers
of
his
left
hand
on
the
knuckles
of
his
right
,
without
taking
his
eyes
from
the
figure
.
The
figure
removes
the
right
hand
glove
,
and
shews
the
hand
.
“
Now
,
what
do
you
say
to
that
?
”
asks
Bucket
.
Jo
shakes
his
head
.
“
Not
rings
a
bit
like
them
.
Not
a
hand
like
that
.
”
“
What
are
you
talking
of
?
”
says
Bucket
;
evidently
pleased
though
,
and
well
pleased
too
.
“
Hand
was
a
deal
whiter
,
a
deal
delicater
and
a
deal
smaller
,
”
returns
Jo
.
“
Why
,
you
'll
tell
me
I
'm
my
own
mother
,
next
,
”
says
Mr.
Bucket
.
“
Do
you
recollect
the
lady
's
voice
?
”
“
I
think
I
does
,
”
says
Jo
.
The
figure
speaks
.
“
Was
it
at
all
like
this
.
I
will
speak
as
long
as
you
like
if
you
are
not
sure
.
Was
it
this
voice
,
or
at
all
like
this
voice
?
”
Jo
looks
aghast
at
Mr.
Bucket
.
“
Not
a
bit
!
”
“
Then
,
what
,
”
retorts
that
worthy
,
pointing
to
the
figure
,
“
did
you
say
it
was
the
lady
for
?
”
“
Cos
,
”
says
Jo
,
with
a
perplexed
stare
,
but
without
being
at
all
shaken
in
his
certainty
,
“
Cos
that
there
's
the
wale
,
the
bonnet
,
and
the
gownd
.
It
is
her
and
it
a
n't
her
.
It
a
n't
her
hand
,
nor
yet
her
rings
,
nor
yet
her
woice
.
But
that
there
's
the
wale
,
the
bonnet
,
and
the
gownd
,
and
they
're
wore
the
same
way
wot
she
wore
'
em
,
and
it
's
her
heigth
wot
she
wos
,
and
she
giv
me
a
sov'ring
and
hooked
it
.
”
“
Well
!
”
says
Mr.
Bucket
,
slightly
,
“
we
have
n't
got
much
good
out
of
you
.
But
,
however
,
here
's
five
shillings
for
you
.
Take
care
how
you
spend
it
,
and
do
n't
get
yourself
into
trouble
.
”
Bucket
stealthily
tells
the
coins
from
one
hand
into
the
other
like
counters
—
which
is
a
way
he
has
,
his
principal
use
of
them
being
in
these
games
of
skill
—
and
then
puts
them
,
in
a
little
pile
,
into
the
boy
's
hand
,
and
takes
him
out
to
the
door
;
leaving
Mr.
Snagsby
,
not
by
any
means
comfortable
under
these
mysterious
circumstances
,
alone
with
the
veiled
figure
.
But
,
on
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
's
coming
into
the
room
,
the
veil
is
raised
,
and
a
sufficiently
good-looking
Frenchwoman
is
revealed
,
though
her
expression
is
something
of
the
intensest
.
“
Thank
you
,
Mademoiselle
Hortense
,
”
says
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
,
with
his
usual
equanimity
.
“
I
will
give
you
no
further
trouble
about
this
little
wager
.
”
“
You
will
do
me
the
kindness
to
remember
,
sir
,
that
I
am
not
at
present
placed
?
”
says
Mademoiselle
.
“
Certainly
,
certainly
!
”
“
And
to
confer
upon
me
the
favour
of
your
distinguished
recommendation
?
”
“
By
all
means
,
Mademoiselle
Hortense
.
”
“
A
word
from
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
is
so
powerful
.
”
—
“
It
shall
not
be
wanting
,
Mademoiselle
.
”
—
“
Receive
the
assurance
of
my
devoted
gratitude
,
dear
sir
.
”
—
“
Good
night
.
”
Mademoiselle
goes
out
with
an
air
of
native
gentility
;
and
Mr.
Bucket
,
to
whom
it
is
,
on
an
emergency
,
as
natural
to
be
groom
of
the
ceremonies
as
it
is
to
be
anything
else
,
shows
her
down
stairs
,
not
without
gallantry
.
“
Well
,
Bucket
?
”
quoth
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
on
his
return
.
“
It
's
all
squared
,
you
see
,
as
I
squared
it
myself
,
sir
.
There
a
n't
a
doubt
that
it
was
the
other
one
with
this
one
's
dress
on
.
The
boy
was
exact
respecting
colors
and
everything
.
Mr.
Snagsby
,
I
promised
you
as
a
man
that
he
should
be
sent
away
all
right
.
Do
n't
say
it
was
n't
done
!
”
“
You
have
kept
your
word
,
sir
,
”
returns
the
stationer
;
“
and
if
I
can
be
of
no
further
use
,
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
,
I
think
,
as
my
little
woman
will
be
getting
anxious
—
”
“
Thank
you
,
Snagsby
,
no
further
use
,
”
says
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
.
“
I
am
quite
indebted
to
you
for
the
trouble
you
have
taken
already
.
”
“
Not
at
all
,
sir
.
I
wish
you
good
night
.
”
“
You
see
,
Mr.
Snagsby
,
”
says
Mr.
Bucket
,
accompanying
him
to
the
door
,
and
shaking
hands
with
him
over
and
over
again
,
“
what
I
like
in
you
,
is
,
that
you
're
a
man
it
's
of
no
use
pumping
;
that
's
what
you
are
.
When
you
know
you
have
done
a
right
thing
,
you
put
it
away
,
and
it
's
done
with
and
gone
,
and
there
's
an
end
of
it
.
That
's
what
you
do
.
”
“
That
is
certainly
what
I
endeavour
to
do
,
sir
,
”
returns
Mr.
Snagsby
.
“
No
,
you
do
n't
do
yourself
justice
.
It
a
n't
what
you
endeavour
to
do
,
”
says
Mr.
Bucket
,
shaking
hands
with
him
and
blessing
him
in
the
tenderest
manner
,
“
it
's
what
you
do
.
That
's
what
I
estimate
in
a
man
in
your
way
of
business
.
”
Mr.
Snagsby
makes
a
suitable
response
;
and
goes
homeward
so
confused
by
the
events
of
the
evening
,
that
he
is
doubtful
of
his
being
awake
and
out
—
doubtful
of
the
reality
of
the
streets
through
which
he
goes
—
doubtful
of
the
reality
of
the
moon
that
shines
above
him
.
He
is
presently
reassured
on
these
subjects
,
by
the
unchallengeable
reality
of
Mrs.
Snagsby
,
sitting
up
with
her
head
in
a
perfect
beehive
of
curl-papers
and
nightcap
:
who
has
dispatched
Guster
to
the
police
station
with
official
intelligence
of
her
husband
's
being
made
away
with
,
and
who
,
within
the
last
two
hours
,
has
passed
through
every
stage
of
swooning
with
the
greatest
decorum
.
But
,
as
the
little
woman
feelingly
says
,
many
thanks
she
gets
for
it
!
CHAPTER
XXIII
.
ESTHER
'S
NARRATIVE
.
WE
came
home
from
Mr.
Boythorn
's
after
six
pleasant
weeks
.
We
were
often
in
the
park
,
and
in
the
woods
,
and
seldom
passed
the
Lodge
where
we
had
taken
shelter
without
looking
in
to
speak
to
the
keeper
's
wife
;
but
we
saw
no
more
of
Lady
Dedlock
,
except
at
church
on
Sundays
.
There
was
company
at
Chesney
Wold
;
and
although
several
beautiful
faces
surrounded
her
,
her
face
retained
the
same
influence
on
me
as
at
first
.
I
do
not
quite
know
,
even
now
,
whether
it
was
painful
or
pleasurable
;
whether
it
drew
me
towards
her
,
or
made
me
shrink
from
her
.
I
think
I
admired
her
with
a
kind
of
fear
;
and
I
know
that
in
her
presence
my
thoughts
always
wandered
back
,
as
they
had
done
at
first
,
to
that
old
time
of
my
life
.
I
had
a
fancy
,
on
more
than
one
of
these
Sundays
,
that
what
this
lady
so
curiously
was
to
me
,
I
was
to
her
—
I
mean
that
I
disturbed
her
thoughts
as
she
influenced
mine
,
though
in
some
different
way
.
But
when
I
stole
a
glance
at
her
,
and
saw
her
so
composed
and
distant
and
unapproachable
,
I
felt
this
to
be
a
foolish
weakness
.
Indeed
,
I
felt
the
whole
state
of
my
mind
in
reference
to
her
to
be
weak
and
unreasonable
;
and
I
remonstrated
with
myself
about
it
as
much
as
I
could
.
One
incident
that
occurred
before
we
quitted
Mr.
Boythorn
's
house
,
I
had
better
mention
in
this
place
.
I
was
walking
in
the
garden
with
Ada
,
when
I
was
told
that
some
one
wished
to
see
me
.
Going
into
the
breakfast-room
where
this
person
was
waiting
,
I
found
it
to
be
the
French
maid
who
had
cast
off
her
shoes
and
walked
through
the
wet
grass
,
on
the
day
when
it
thundered
and
lightened
.
“
Mademoiselle
,
”
she
began
,
looking
fixedly
at
me
with
her
too-eager
eyes
,
though
otherwise
presenting
an
agreeable
appearance
,
and
speaking
neither
with
boldness
nor
servility
,
“
I
have
taken
a
great
liberty
in
coming
here
,
but
you
know
how
to
excuse
it
,
being
so
amiable
,
mademoiselle
.
”
“
No
excuse
is
necessary
,
”
I
returned
,
“
if
you
wish
to
speak
to
me
.
”
“
That
is
my
desire
,
mademoiselle
.
A
thousand
thanks
for
the
permission
.
I
have
your
leave
to
speak
.
Is
it
not
?
”
she
said
,
in
a
quick
natural
way
.
“
Certainly
,
”
said
I
.
“
Mademoiselle
,
you
are
so
amiable
!
Listen
then
,
if
you
please
.
I
have
left
my
Lady
.
We
could
not
agree
.
My
Lady
is
so
high
;
so
very
high
.
Pardon
!
Mademoiselle
,
you
are
right
!
”
Her
quickness
anticipated
what
I
might
have
said
presently
,
but
as
yet
had
only
thought
.
“
It
is
not
for
me
to
come
here
to
complain
of
my
Lady
.
But
I
say
she
is
so
high
,
so
very
high
.
I
will
say
not
a
word
more
.
All
the
world
knows
that
.
”
“
Go
on
,
if
you
please
,
”
said
I
.
“
Assuredly
;
mademoiselle
,
I
am
thankful
for
your
politeness
.
Mademoiselle
,
I
have
an
inexpressible
desire
to
find
service
with
a
young
lady
who
is
good
,
accomplished
,
beautiful
.
You
are
good
,
accomplished
,
and
beautiful
as
an
angel
.
Ah
,
could
I
have
the
honor
of
being
your
domestic
!
”
“
I
am
sorry
—
”
I
began
.
“
Do
not
dismiss
me
so
soon
,
mademoiselle
!
”
she
said
,
with
an
involuntary
contraction
of
her
fine
black
eyebrows
.
“
Let
me
hope
,
a
moment
!
Mademoiselle
,
I
know
this
service
would
be
more
retired
than
that
which
I
have
quitted
.
Well
!
I
wish
that
.
I
know
this
service
would
be
less
distinguished
than
that
which
I
have
quitted
.
Well
!
I
wish
that
.
I
know
that
I
should
win
less
,
as
to
wages
,
here
.
Good
.
I
am
content
.
”
“
I
assure
you
,
”
said
I
,
quite
embarrassed
by
the
mere
idea
of
having
such
an
attendant
,
“
that
I
keep
no
maid
—
”
“
Ah
,
mademoiselle
,
but
why
not
?
Why
not
,
when
you
can
have
one
so
devoted
to
you
?
Who
would
be
enchanted
to
serve
you
;
who
would
be
so
true
,
so
zealous
,
and
so
faithful
,
every
day
!
Mademoiselle
,
I
wish
with
all
my
heart
to
serve
you
.
Do
not
speak
of
money
at
present
.
Take
me
as
I
am
.
For
nothing
!
”
She
was
so
singularly
earnest
that
I
drew
back
,
almost
afraid
of
her
.
Without
appearing
to
notice
it
,
in
her
ardor
,
she
still
pressed
herself
upon
me
;
speaking
in
a
rapid
subdued
voice
,
though
always
with
a
certain
grace
and
propriety
.
“
Mademoiselle
,
I
come
from
the
South
country
,
where
we
are
quick
,
and
where
we
like
and
dislike
very
strong
.
My
Lady
was
too
high
for
me
;
I
was
too
high
for
her
.
It
is
done
—
past
—
finished
!
Receive
me
as
your
domestic
,
and
I
will
serve
you
well
.
I
will
do
more
for
you
,
than
you
figure
to
yourself
now
.
Chut
!
mademoiselle
,
I
will
—
no
matter
,
I
will
do
my
utmost
possible
,
in
all
things
.
If
you
accept
my
service
,
you
will
not
repent
it
.
Mademoiselle
,
you
will
not
repent
it
,
and
I
will
serve
you
well
.
You
do
n't
know
how
well
!
”
There
was
a
lowering
energy
in
her
face
,
as
she
stood
looking
at
me
while
I
explained
the
impossibility
of
my
engaging
her
(
without
thinking
it
necessary
to
say
how
very
little
I
desired
to
do
so
)
,
which
seemed
to
bring
visibly
before
me
some
woman
from
the
streets
of
Paris
in
the
reign
of
terror
.
She
heard
me
out
without
interruption
;
and
then
said
,
with
her
pretty
accent
,
and
in
her
mildest
voice
:
“
Hey
,
mademoiselle
,
I
have
received
my
answer
!
I
am
sorry
of
it
.
But
I
must
go
elsewhere
,
and
seek
what
I
have
not
found
here
.
Will
you
graciously
let
me
kiss
your
hand
?
”
She
looked
at
me
more
intently
as
she
took
it
,
and
seemed
to
take
note
,
with
her
momentary
touch
,
of
every
vein
in
it
.
“
I
fear
I
surprised
you
,
mademoiselle
,
on
the
day
of
the
storm
?
”
she
said
,
with
a
parting
curtsey
,
I
confessed
that
she
had
surprised
us
all
.
“
I
took
an
oath
,
mademoiselle
,
”
she
said
,
smiling
,
“
and
I
wanted
to
stamp
it
on
my
mind
,
so
that
I
might
keep
it
faithfully
.
And
I
will
!
Adieu
,
mademoiselle
!
”
So
ended
our
conference
,
which
I
was
very
glad
to
bring
to
a
close
.
I
supposed
she
went
away
from
the
village
,
for
I
saw
her
no
more
;
and
nothing
else
occurred
to
disturb
our
tranquil
summer
pleasures
,
until
six
weeks
were
out
,
and
we
returned
home
as
I
began
just
now
by
saying
.
At
that
time
,
and
for
a
good
many
weeks
after
that
time
,
Richard
was
constant
in
his
visits
.
Besides
coming
every
Saturday
or
Sunday
,
and
remaining
with
us
until
Monday
morning
,
he
sometimes
rode
out
on
horseback
unexpectedly
,
and
passed
the
evening
with
us
,
and
rode
back
again
early
next
day
.
He
was
as
vivacious
as
ever
,
and
told
us
he
was
very
industrious
;
but
I
was
not
easy
in
my
mind
about
him
.
It
appeared
to
me
that
his
industry
was
all
misdirected
.
I
could
not
find
that
it
led
to
anything
,
but
the
formation
of
delusive
hopes
in
connexion
with
the
suit
already
the
pernicious
cause
of
so
much
sorrow
and
ruin
.
He
had
got
at
the
core
of
that
mystery
now
,
he
told
us
;
and
nothing
could
be
plainer
than
that
the
will
under
which
