the back part of it

leading to the house-entry. As he stood with his hand

upon the lock, the little old lady graciously observed to him before

passing out, That will do, Krook. You mean well, but are tiresome. My ‟

young friends are pressed for time. I have none to spare myself, having

to attend court very soon. My young friends are the wards in Jarndyce.”

‟Jarndyce!” said the old man with a start.

‟Jarndyce and Jarndyce. 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!”

Yes,” said the old man abstractedly. Sure! ‟ ‟ Your name now will be—”

‟Richard Carstone.”

‟Carstone,” he repeated, slowly checking off that name upon his

forefinger; and each of the others he went on to mention upon a separate

finger. Yes. There was the name of Barbary, and the name of Clare, and ‟

the name of Dedlock, too, I think.”

‟He knows as much of the cause as the real salaried Chancellor!” said

Richard, quite astonished, to Ada and me.

Aye!” said the old man, coming slowly out of his abstraction. Yes! ‟ ‟

Tom Jarndyce—you’ll excuse me, being related; but he was never known

about court by any other name, and was as well known there as—she is

now,” nodding slightly at his lodger. Tom Jarndyce was often in here. He ‟

got into a restless habit of strolling about when the cause was on, or

expected, talking to the little shopkeepers and telling em to keep out of ‛

Chancery, whatever they did. For,’ says he, it’s being ground to bits in a ‛ ‛

slow mill; it’s being roasted at a slow fire; it’s being stung to death by

single bees; it’s being drowned by drops; it’s going mad by grains.’ He

was as near making away with himself, just where the young lady stands,

as near could be.leading to the house-entry. As he stood with his hand

upon the lock, the little old lady graciously observed to him before

passing out, That will do, Krook. You mean well, but are tiresome. My ‟

young friends are pressed for time. I have none to spare myself, having

to attend court very soon. My young friends are the wards in Jarndyce.”

‟Jarndyce!” said the old man with a start.

‟Jarndyce and Jarndyce. 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!”

Yes,” said the old man abstractedly. Sure! ‟ ‟ Your name now will be—”

‟Richard Carstone.”

‟Carstone,” he repeated, slowly checking off that name upon his

forefinger; and each of the others he went on to mention upon a separate

finger. Yes. There was the name of Barbary, and the name of Clare, and ‟

the name of Dedlock, too, I think.”

‟He knows as much of the cause as the real salaried Chancellor!” said

Richard, quite astonished, to Ada and me.

Aye!” said the old man, coming slowly out of his abstraction. Yes! ‟ ‟

Tom Jarndyce—you’ll excuse me, being related; but he was never known

about court by any other name, and was as well known there as—she is

now,” nodding slightly at his lodger. Tom Jarndyce was often in here. He ‟

got into a restless habit of strolling about when the cause was on, or

expected, talking to the little shopkeepers and telling em to keep out of ‛

Chancery, whatever they did. For,’ says he, it’s being ground to bits in a ‛ ‛

slow mill; it’s being roasted at a slow fire; it’s being stung to death by

single bees; it’s being drowned by drops; it’s going mad by grains.’ He

was as near making away with himself, just where the young lady stands,

as near could be.