Холодный дом

The Law-Writer

           Coavinses’coffee-roomisattheback,andtheshadowsofseveralgentlemenunderacloudloomcloudilyupontheblinds.Mr.Snagsbytakestheopportunityofslightlyturninghisheadtoglanceoverhisshoulderathislittlewomanandtomakeapologeticmotionswithhismouthtothiseffect:"Tul-king-hornrichin-flu-en-tial!""Haveyougiventhismanworkbefore?"asksMr.Tulkinghorn."Oh,dear,yes,sir!Workofyours.""Thinkingofmoreimportantmatters,Iforgetwhereyousaidhelived?""Acrossthelane,sir.Infact,helodgesata"Mr.Snagsbymakesanotherbolt,asifthebitofbreadandbutterwereinsurmountable"ataragandbottleshop.""CanyoushowmetheplaceasIgoback?""Withthegreatestpleasure,sir!"Mr.Snagsbypullsoffhissleevesandhisgreycoat,pullsonhisblackcoat,takeshishatfromitspeg."Oh!Hereismylittlewoman!"hesaysaloud."Mydear,willyoubesokindastotelloneoftheladstolookaftertheshopwhileIstepacrossthelanewithMr.Tulkinghorn?Mrs.Snagsby,sirIshan’tbetwominutes,mylove!"Mrs.Snagsbybendstothelawyer,retiresbehindthecounter,peepsatthemthroughthewindow-blind,goessoftlyintothebackoffice,referstotheentriesinthebookstilllyingopen.Isevidentlycurious."Youwillfindthattheplaceisrough,sir,"saysMr.Snagsby,walkingdeferentiallyintheroadandleavingthenarrowpavementtothelawyer;"andthepartyisveryrough.Butthey’reawildlotingeneral,sir.Theadvantageofthisparticularmanisthatheneverwantssleep.

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