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On the Watch

           ""Andwhatkindofman,"myLadyasks,"wasthisdeplorablecreature?""Verydifficulttosay,"returnsthelawyer,shakinghishead."Hehadlivedsowretchedlyandwassoneglected,withhisgipsycolourandhiswildblackhairandbeard,thatIshouldhaveconsideredhimthecommonestofthecommon.Thesurgeonhadanotionthathehadoncebeensomethingbetter,bothinappearanceandcondition.""Whatdidtheycallthewretchedbeing?""Theycalledhimwhathehadcalledhimself,butnooneknewhisname.""Notevenanyonewhohadattendedonhim?""Noonehadattendedonhim.Hewasfounddead.Infact,Ifoundhim.""Withoutanycluetoanythingmore?""Withoutany;therewas,"saysthelawyermeditatively,"anoldportmanteau,butNo,therewerenopapers."Duringtheutteranceofeverywordofthisshortdialogue,LadyDedlockandMr.Tulkinghorn,withoutanyotheralterationintheircustomarydeportment,havelookedverysteadilyatoneanotheraswasnatural,perhaps,inthediscussionofsounusualasubject.SirLeicesterhaslookedatthefire,withthegeneralexpressionoftheDedlockonthestaircase.Thestorybeingtold,herenewshisstatelyprotest,sayingthatasitisquiteclearthatnoassociationinmyLady’smindcanpossiblybetraceabletothispoorwretch(unlesshewasabegging-letterwriter),hetruststohearnomoreaboutasubjectsofarremovedfrommyLady’sstation."Certainly,acollectionofhorrors,"saysmyLady,gatheringuphermantlesandfurs,"buttheyinterestoneforthemoment!Havethekindness,Mr.Tulkinghorn,toopenthedoorforme."Mr

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