Холодный дом

Our Dear Brother

           Krookreplies,"YoumightaswellaskmetodescribetheladieswhoseheadsofhairIhavegotinsacksdownstairs.Thanthathewasmylodgerforayearandahalfandlived—ordidn’tlive—bylaw-writing,Iknownomoreofhim."DuringthisdialogueMr.Tulkinghornhasstoodaloofbytheoldportmanteau,withhishandsbehindhim,equallyremoved,toallappearance,fromallthreekindsofinterestexhibitednearthebed—fromtheyoungsurgeon’sprofessionalinterestindeath,noticeableasbeingquiteapartfromhisremarksonthedeceasedasanindividual;fromtheoldman’sunction;andthelittlecrazywoman’sawe.Hisimperturbablefacehasbeenasinexpressiveashisrustyclothes.Onecouldnotevensayhehasbeenthinkingallthiswhile.Hehasshownneitherpatiencenorimpatience,norattentionnorabstraction.Hehasshownnothingbuthisshell.Aseasilymightthetoneofadelicatemusicalinstrumentbeinferredfromitscase,asthetoneofMr.Tulkinghornfromhiscase.Henowinterposes,addressingtheyoungsurgeoninhisunmoved,professionalway."Ilookedinhere,"heobserves,"justbeforeyou,withtheintentionofgivingthisdeceasedman,whomIneversawalive,someemploymentathistradeofcopying.Ihadheardofhimfrommystationer—SnagsbyofCook’sCourt.Sincenoonehereknowsanythingabouthim,itmightbeaswelltosendforSnagsby.Ah!"tothelittlecrazywoman,whohasoftenseenhimincourt,andwhomhehasoftenseen,andwhoproposes,infrighteneddumb-show,togoforthelaw-stationer.

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