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Updated: May 16, 2025
The great suit, Krook," returned his lodger. "Hi!" exclaimed the old man in a tone of thoughtful amazement and with a wider stare than before. "Think of it!" He seemed so rapt all in a moment and looked so curiously at us that Richard said, "Why, you appear to trouble yourself a good deal about the causes before your noble and learned brother, the other Chancellor!"
In its delirium it imagines guineas pouring out of tea-pots, crown-pieces overflowing punch-bowls, old chairs and mattresses stuffed with Bank of England notes. Daniel Dancer and his sister, and also of Mr. Elwes, of Suffolk, and transfers all the facts from those authentic narratives to Mr. Krook.
"By the by, Tony, don't forget old Smallweed," meaning the younger of that name. "I have not let him into this, you know. That grandfather of his is too keen by half. It runs in the family." "I remember," says Tony. "I am up to all that." "And as to Krook," resumes Mr. Guppy.
Among them was one, in the same writing, having nothing to do with the business of the shop, but announcing that a respectable man aged forty-five wanted engrossing or copying to execute with neatness and dispatch: Address to Nemo, care of Mr. Krook, within. There were several second-hand bags, blue and red, hanging up.
Tony again entreats that the subject may be no longer pursued, saying emphatically, "William Guppy, drop it!" Mr. Guppy acquiesces, with the reply, "I never should have taken it up, Tony, of my own accord." "And now," says Tony, stirring the fire, "touching this same bundle of letters. Isn't it an extraordinary thing of Krook to have appointed twelve o'clock to-night to hand 'em over to me?"
Call out for Flite, will you?" says Krook, with his lean hands spread out above the body like a vampire's wings. Mr. Tulkinghorn hurries to the landing and calls, "Miss Flite! Flite! Make haste, here, whoever you are! Flite!" Krook follows him with his eyes, and while he is calling, finds opportunity to steal to the old portmanteau and steal back again. "Run, Flite, run! The nearest doctor! Run!"
About a year and a half ago to the best of my belief, at the time when he first came to lodge at the present rag and bottle shop " "That was the time!" says Krook with a nod. "About a year and a half ago," says Mr. Snagsby, which he always offers with a sort of argumentative frankness, "hard up!
Krook, with his mouth open, looking for somebody to speak next. "As to his connexions, sir," says Mr. Snagsby, "if a person was to say to me, 'Snagsby, here's twenty thousand pound down, ready for you in the Bank of England if you'll only name one of 'em, I couldn't do it, sir!
As the light goes in, the great eyes in the shutters, darkening, seem to close. Not so the eyes upon the bed. "God save us!" exclaims Mr. Tulkinghorn. "He is dead!" Krook drops the heavy hand he has taken up so suddenly that the arm swings over the bedside. They look at one another for a moment. "Send for some doctor! Call for Miss Flite up the stairs, sir. Here's poison by the bed!
Krook, looking slowly and sharply from one to another until he had looked at all of us; "she'd never offer at the birds when I was here unless I told her to it." "You will excuse my landlord," said the old lady with a dignified air. "M, quite M! What do you want, Krook, when I have company?" "Hi!" said the old man. "You know I am the Chancellor." "Well?" returned Miss Elite. "What of that?"
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