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Updated: June 13, 2025
"Happy to hear it, sir. You can't be too well, sir, for the credit of the profession." "Thank you, Mr. Guppy!" Mr. Guppy sneaks away. Mr. Tulkinghorn, such a foil in his old- fashioned rusty black to Lady Dedlock's brightness, hands her down the staircase to her carriage. He returns rubbing his chin, and rubs it a good deal in the course of the evening. A Turn of the Screw "Now, what," says Mr.
Guppy," returned my guardian. "I am quite willing I believe I use a legal phrase to admit the certificate." Mr. Guppy therefore desisted from taking something out of his pocket and proceeded without it. "I have no capital myself, but my mother has a little property which takes the form of an annuity" here Mr.
Guppy suspects everybody who enters on the occupation of a stool in Kenge and Carboy's office of entertaining, as a matter of course, sinister designs upon him. He is clear that every such person wants to depose him. If he be ever asked how, why, when, or wherefore, he shuts up one eye and shakes his head.
"I asked the favour of seeing you for a few moments here," said I, "in preference to calling at Mr. Kenge's because, remembering what you said on an occasion when you spoke to me in confidence, I feared I might otherwise cause you some embarrassment, Mr. Guppy." I caused him embarrassment enough as it was, I am sure. I never saw such faltering, such confusion, such amazement and apprehension.
"It's far from a pleasant thing to be plotting about a dead man in the room where he died, especially when you happen to live in it." "But we are plotting nothing against him, Tony." "May be not, still I don't like it. Live here by yourself and see how YOU like it." "As to dead men, Tony," proceeds Mr. Guppy, evading this proposal, "there have been dead men in most rooms."
Nowadays we should hardly seat boys in a group if we wished them to be orderly and decorous, and I fear the man "by the name of Guppy" found it no easy task to preserve order and due gravity among the Puritan boys in Salem meeting.
I mid ha' been took up wi' some sich foolish notion afore, bein' but a silly maid, but now I be a married 'ooman, an' I do know how to vally a husband's love." The new-made bridegroom ceased struggling and gaped at her. Jenny, gazing at her former lover more in sorrow than in anger, pointed solemnly to the clock: "Take down that clock, Abel Guppy," she repeated. "I do know you now for what you be.
"Yes, sir. My reasons are not of a personal nature at all, but they are amply sufficient for myself." "No doubt, no doubt." Mr. Tulkinghorn is as imperturbable as the hearthstone to which he has quietly walked. "The matter is not of that consequence that I need put you to the trouble of making any conditions, Mr. Guppy."
The story has nothing to do with a picture; the housekeeper can guarantee that. Mr. Guppy is obliged to her for the information and is, moreover, generally obliged. He retires with his friend, guided down another staircase by the young gardener, and presently is heard to drive away. It is now dusk. Mrs.
Like them, too, they seem to run to a deal of seed in their tags and trimmings. Sir Leicester, in the library, has fallen asleep for the good of the country over the report of a Parliamentary committee. My Lady sits in the room in which she gave audience to the young man of the name of Guppy. Rosa is with her and has been writing for her and reading to her.
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