Холодний дім

The Law-Writer

           ""Jarndyce!Hereweare,sir,"saysMr.Snagsby."Tobesure!Imighthaverememberedit.Thiswasgivenout,sir,toawriterwholodgesjustoverontheoppositesideofthelane."Mr.Tulkinghornhasseentheentry,founditbeforethelaw-stationer,readitwhiletheforefingerwascomingdownthehill."WHATdoyoucallhim?Nemo?"saysMr.Tulkinghorn."Nemo,sir.Hereitis.Forty-twofolio.GivenoutontheWednesdaynightateighto’clock,broughtinontheThursdaymorningathalfafternine.""Nemo!"repeatsMr.Tulkinghorn."NemoisLatinfornoone.""ItmustbeEnglishforsomeone,sir,Ithink,"Mr.Snagsbysubmitswithhisdeferentialcough."Itisaperson’sname.Hereitis,yousee,sir!Forty-twofolio.GivenoutWednesdaynight,eighto’clock;broughtinThursdaymorning,halfafternine."ThetailofMr.Snagsby’seyebecomesconsciousoftheheadofMrs.Snagsbylookinginattheshop-doortoknowwhathemeansbydesertinghistea.Mr.SnagsbyaddressesanexplanatorycoughtoMrs.Snagsby,aswhoshouldsay,"Mydear,acustomer!""Halfafternine,sir,"repeatsMr.Snagsby."Ourlaw-writers,wholivebyjob-work,areaqueerlot;andthismaynotbehisname,butit’sthenamehegoesby.Iremembernow,sir,thathegivesitinawrittenadvertisementhesticksupdownattheRuleOffice,andtheKing’sBenchOffice,andtheJudges’Chambers,andsoforth.Youknowthekindofdocument,sirwantingemploy?"Mr.TulkinghornglancesthroughthelittlewindowatthebackofCoavinses’,thesheriff’sofficer’s,wherelightsshineinCoavinses’windows.

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Roboto Lora
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