Холодный дом

Interlopers

           Weevleespecially)putnamestosomanythingsthatincourseoftimetheyfinditdifficulttoputanametoanythingquitedistinctly,thoughtheystillrelatetoallnew-comerssomeversionofthenighttheyhavehadofit,andofwhattheysaid,andwhattheythought,andwhattheysaw.Meanwhile,oneorotherofthepolicemenoftenflitsaboutthedoor,andpushingitopenalittlewayatthefulllengthofhisarm,looksinfromoutergloom.Notthathehasanysuspicions,butthathemayaswellknowwhattheyareuptointhere.Thusnightpursuesitsleadencourse,findingthecourtstilloutofbedthroughtheunwontedhours,stilltreatingandbeingtreated,stillconductingitselfsimilarlytoacourtthathashadalittlemoneyleftitunexpectedly.Thusnightatlengthwithslow-retreatingstepsdeparts,andthelamp-lightergoinghisrounds,likeanexecutionertoadespoticking,strikesoffthelittleheadsoffirethathaveaspiredtolessenthedarkness.Thusthedaycometh,whetherorno.Andthedaymaydiscern,evenwithitsdimLondoneye,thatthecourthasbeenupallnight.Overandabovethefacesthathavefallendrowsilyontablesandtheheelsthatlieproneonhardfloorsinsteadofbeds,thebrickandmortarphysiognomyoftheverycourtitselflookswornandjaded.Andnowtheneighbourhood,wakingupandbeginningtohearofwhathashappened,comesstreamingin,halfdressed,toaskquestions;andthetwopolicemenandthehelmet(whoarefarlessimpressibleexternallythanthecourt)haveenoughtodotokeepthedoor."Goodgracious,gentlemen!"saysMr.Snagsby,comingup.

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