Page 1084 - bleak-house

Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet; and supposing I was to be
picked off now, you might wonder why I hadn’t done it,
don’t you see?’
True. Sir Leicester, avoiding, with some trouble those ob-
trusive sounds, says, ‘True.’ At this juncture a considerable
noise of voices is heard in the hall. Mr. Bucket, after listen-
ing, goes to the library-door, softly unlocks and opens it,
and listens again. Then he draws in his head and whispers
hurriedly but composedly, ‘Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet,
this unfortunate family affair has taken air, as I expected
it might, the deceased Mr. Tulkinghorn being cut down so
sudden. The chance to hush it is to let in these people now
in a wrangle with your footmen. Would you mind sitting
quiet—on the family account—while I reckon ‘em up? And
would you just throw in a nod when I seem to ask you for
it?’
Sir Leicester indistinctly answers, ‘Officer. The best you
can, the best you can!’ and Mr. Bucket, with a nod and a
sagacious crook of the forefinger, slips down into the hall,
where the voices quickly die away. He is not long in re-
turning; a few paces ahead of Mercury and a brother deity
also powdered and in peach-blossomed smalls, who bear
between them a chair in which is an incapable old man.
Another man and two women come behind. Directing the
pitching of the chair in an affable and easy manner, Mr.
Bucket dismisses the Mercuries and locks the door again.
Sir Leicester looks on at this invasion of the sacred precincts
with an icy stare.
‘Now, perhaps you may know me, ladies and gentlemen,’

1084 Bleak House