Холодный дом

More Old Soldiers Than One

           Tulkinghorn,outwardlyquiteundisturbed,demands,"Whynot?""Why,sir,"returnsthetrooper."Exceptonmilitarycompulsion,Iamnotamanofbusiness.AmongciviliansIamwhattheycallinScotlandane’er-do-weel.Ihavenoheadforpapers,sir.Icanstandanyfirebetterthanafireofcrossquestions.ImentionedtoMr.Smallweed,onlyanhourorsoago,thatwhenIcomeintothingsofthiskindIfeelasifIwasbeingsmothered.Andthatismysensation,"saysMr.George,lookingrounduponthecompany,"atthepresentmoment."Withthat,hetakesthreestridesforwardtoreplacethepapersonthelawyer’stableandthreestridesbackwardtoresumehisformerstation,wherehestandsperfectlyupright,nowlookingatthegroundandnowatthepaintedceiling,withhishandsbehindhimasiftopreventhimselffromacceptinganyotherdocumentwhatever.Underthisprovocation,Mr.Smallweed’sfavouriteadjectiveofdisparagementissoclosetohistonguethathebeginsthewords"mydearfriend"withthemonosyllable"brim,"thusconvertingthepossessivepronounintobrimmyandappearingtohaveanimpedimentinhisspeech.Oncepastthisdifficulty,however,heexhortshisdearfriendinthetenderestmannernottoberash,buttodowhatsoeminentagentlemanrequires,andtodoitwithagoodgrace,confidentthatitmustbeunobjectionableaswellasprofitable.Mr.Tulkinghornmerelyuttersanoccasionalsentence,as,"Youarethebestjudgeofyourowninterest,sergeant.""Takecareyoudonoharmbythis.""Pleaseyourself,pleaseyourself.""Ifyouknowwhatyoumean,that’squiteenough.

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