Page 580 - bleak-house

‘I thought so. That’s sufficient. You can go. So you are the
man,’ says Mr. Tulkinghorn, opening his door with the key,
‘in whose hiding-place Mr. Gridley was found?’
‘Yes, I AM the man,’ says the trooper, stopping two or
three stairs down. ‘What then, sir?’
‘What then? I don’t like your associates. You should
not have seen the inside of my door this morning if I had
thought of your being that man. Gridley? A threatening,
murderous, dangerous fellow.’
With these words, spoken in an unusually high tone for
him, the lawyer goes into his rooms and shuts the door with
a thundering noise.
Mr. George takes his dismissal in great dudgeon, the
greater because a clerk coming up the stairs has heard the
last words of all and evidently applies them to him. ‘A pretty
character to bear,’ the trooper growls with a hasty oath as he
strides downstairs. ‘A threatening, murderous, dangerous
fellow!’ And looking up, he sees the clerk looking down at
him and marking him as he passes a lamp. This so intensi-
fies his dudgeon that for five minutes he is in an ill humour.
But he whistles that off like the rest of it and marches home
to the shooting gallery.

580 Bleak House