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occasion—your friend is no fool。 What’s that？”
“It’s eleven o’clock striking by the bell of Saint Paul’s。 Listen；
and you’ll hear all the bells in the city jangling。”
Both sit silent； listening to the metal voices； near and distant；
resounding from towers of various heights； in tones more various
than their situations。 When these at length cease； all seems more
mysterious and quiet than before。 One disagreeable result of
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Bleak House 625
whispering is； that it seems to evoke an atmosphere of silence；
haunted by the ghosts of sound—strange cracks and tickings； the
rustling of garments that have no substance in them； and the tread
of dreadful feet； that would leave no mark on the sea…sand or the
winter snow。 So sensitive the two friends happen to be； that the air
is full of these phantoms； and the two look over their shoulders by
one consent； to see that the door is shut。
“Yes； Tony？” says Mr Guppy； drawing nearer to the fire； and
biting his unsteady thumbnail。 “You were going to say； thirdly？”
“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。”
“I know there have； but in most rooms you let them alone；
and—and they let you alone；” Tony answers。
The two look at each other again。 Mr Guppy makes a hurried
remark to the effect that they may be doing the deceased a service；
that he hopes so。 There is an oppressive blank； until Mr Weevle；
by stirring the fire suddenly； makes Mr Guppy start as if his heart
had been stirred instead。
“Fah！ Here’s more of this hateful soot hanging about；” says he。
“Let us open the window a bit and get a mouthful of air。 It’s too
close。”
He raises the sash； and they both rest on the window…sill； half in
and half out of the room。 The neighbouring houses are too near； to
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Bleak House 626
admit of their seeing any sky without craning their necks and
looking up； but lights in frowsy windows here and there； and the
rolling of distant carriages； and the new expression that there is of
the stir of men； they find to be comfortable。 Mr Guppy； noiselessly
tapping on the window…sill； resumes his whispering in quite a
light…comedy tone。
“By…the…bye； 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。 “Now； do you suppose he really has
got hold of any other papers of importance； as he has boasted to
you； since you have been such allies？”
Tony shakes his head。 “I don’t know。 Can’t imagine。 If we get
through this business without rousing his suspicions； I shall be
better informed no doubt。 How can I know without seeing them；
when he don’t know himself？ He is always spelling out words from
them； and chalking them over the table and the shop…wall； and
asking what this is； and what that is； but his whole stock； from
beginning to end； may easily be the waste paper he bought it as；
for anything I can say。 It’s a monomania with him； to think he is
possessed of documents。 He has been going to learn to read them
this last quarter of a century； I should judge； from what he tells
me。”
“How did he first come by that idea； though？ that’s the
question；” Mr Guppy suggests with one eye shut； after a little
forensic meditation。 “He may have found papers in some thing he
bought； where papers were not supposed to be； and may have got
it into his shrewd head； from the manner and place of their
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Bleak House 627
concealment； that they are worth something。”
“Or he may have been taken in； in some pretended bargain。 Or
he may have been muddled altogether； by long staring at whatever
he has got； and by drink； and by hanging about the Lord
Chancellor’s court and hearing of documents for ever；” returns Mr
Weevle。
Mr Guppy sitting on the window…sill； nodding his head and
balancing all these possibilities in his mind； continues thoughtfully
to tap it； and clasp it； and measure it with his hand； until he hastily
draws his hand away。
“What； in the Devil’s name；” he says； “is this！ Look at my
fingers！”
A thick； yellow liquor defiles them； which is offensive to the
touch and sight； and more offensive to the smell。 A stagnant；
sickening oil； with some natural repulsion in it that makes them
both shudder。
“What have you been doing here？ What have you been pouring
out of window？”
“I pouring out of window！ Nothing； I swear！ Never； since I have
been here！” cries the lodger。
And yet look here—and look here！ When he brings the candle；
here； from the corner of the window…sill； it slowly drips； and creeps
away down the bricks； here； lies in a little thick nauseous pool。
“This is a horrible house；” says Mr Guppy； shutting down the
window。 “Give me some water； or I shall cut my hand off。”
He so washes； and rubs； and scrubs； and smells and washes；
that he has not long restored himself with a glass of brandy； and
stood silently before the fire； when Saint Paul’s bell strikes twelve；
and all those other bells strike twelve from their towers of various
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Bleak House 628
heights in the dark air； and in their many tones。 When all is quiet
again； the lodger says：
“It’s the appointed time at last。 Shall I go？”
Mr Guppy nods； and gives him a “lucky touch” on the back； but
not with the washed hand； though it is his right hand。
He goes downstairs； and Mr Guppy tries to compose himself；
before the fire； for waiting a long time。 But in no more than a
minute or two the stairs creak； and Tony comes swiftly back。
“Have you got them？”
“Got them！ No。 The old man’s not there。”
He has been so horribly frightened in the short interval； that his
terror seizes the other； who makes a rush at him； and asks loudly；
“What’s the matter？”
“I couldn’t make him hear； and I softly opened the door and
looked in。 And the burning smell is there—and the soot is there；
and the oil is there—and he is not there！”—Tony ends this w