Hunted Down: The Detective Stories of Charles Dickens

thout hearing a word. I had it put up in place of a wall that had been there for years, — ever since the house was built. It is no matter whether I did or did not make th

nt, and that a Life Assurance Office is at all times exposed to

n that I first saw the gentleman

ng in mourning, — and the hand he extended with a polite air, had a particularly well-fitting black-kid glove upon it. His hair, which was elaborately brushed and oiled, was parted straight up the middle; and he presented this parting

aversion to that man th

, and his eyes met those of the clerk with a sprightly look. (I have known a vast quantity of nonsense talked about bad men not looking you in the f

mmediately he turned the parting in his hair toward the glass partition, as if he

t on his hat and taken up

into my room, and a

d in his hand. ‘Mr. Julius

ster, Mr

nk not

clergyman, but for his havi

ance,’ Mr. Adams replied,

re a dainty white cravat, a

he want, M

proposal, sir, and

ed here? D

s. He noticed you, but said that as he had not the pleasu

know m

aid, “There IS Mr

en gentleman

ably so

g manners,

h so, ind

want nothing at pr

the first man I saw among the company was Mr. Julius Slinkton. There he was, standing before the fire, with good large eyes and an

d so. Mr. Slinkton was very happy to see me. Not too happy; there was no over

had met,’ our

recommendation; but I really did not feel justified in troubling Mr. Sa

ad to show him any attention

ss delicate. Only, however, if I have real business; for I know, Mr. Sampson, how preciou

slight bow. ‘You were thinking,’ said

in such matters. Nothing may ever come of it. I have the greatest reluctance to trouble men of business with inquiries for friends, knowing the probabilities to be a thous

ned his smooth, white parting on me with its ‘Stra

d had a new cook, and dinner was not so punctual as usual,

ney?’

ion of loss with money, and rep

idered for a moment. ‘HAS it sustained a loss

imagine that you have retired. It is

s! Mr. Meltham, the young ac

returned in a

und, the most original, and the most energetic man

ly conveyed to me some suspicion that he wanted to sneer at him. He recalled me to my guard by presen

him, Mr.

ould have sought if he had remained in society, though I might never have had the good fort

t thi

re! To break up, Mr. Sampson, and become incapable of business at

at him. ‘But I WON’T go up the tr

ard assigned, Mr. Slinkt

have heard assigned for Mr. Meltham’s passing away from among men, it is another thing. I am not gratifying idle gossip then. I was told, Mr. Sampson, that Mr. Meltham had relinquished all his avoc

nctions are no armour

That, indeed, makes it very, very sad. Poor Mr. Mel

d an unaccountable sneer under all this, until he said, as we were p

may suppose. I have suffered, and recently too, from death myself. I have lost one of two charming nieces, who were my constan

conversation than I might have troubled myself about a greater matter. I listened to his talk at dinner, and observed how readily other men responded to it, and with what a graceful instinct he adapted his subjects to the knowledge and habits of those he talked with. As, in talking with me, he had easily started the subject I might be supposed to understand best, and to be the most int

ke a watch, and examined it in detail. I could not say much against any of his features separately; I could say even less against them when they were put together. ‘Then is i

ed by some apparently trifling thing in a stranger is right to give it great weight. It may be the clue to the

ed painter then present, who had known him well when he was travelling with his nieces in Italy for their health. His plans in life being broken by the death of one of them, he was reading with the intention of going back to college