Perhaps you will come with us." With these words, he lifted his hat and went off, leaving me in a most uncomfortable state, as he must have known if he had even tried to think.

For I could not get the smallest idea what he meant; and, much as I tried to believe that he must be only pretending, for reasons of his own, to have something important to tell me, scarcely was it possible to be contented so.

A thousand absurd imaginations began to torment me as to what he meant.

He lived in London so much, for instance, that he had much quicker chance of knowing whatever there was to know; again, he was a man of the world, full of short, sharp sagacity, and able to penetrate what I could not; then, again, he kept a large account with Shovelin, Wayte, and Shovelin, as Major Hockin chanced to say; and I knew not that a banker's reserve is much deeper than his deposit; moreover--which, to my mind, was almost stronger proof than any thing--Sir Montague Hockin was of smuggling pedigree, and likely to be skillful in illicit runs of knowledge.
However, in spite of all this uneasiness, not another word would I say to him about it, waiting rather for him to begin again upon it.

But, though I waited and waited, as, perhaps, with any other person I scarcely could have done, he would not condescend to give me even another look about it.
Disliking that gentleman more and more for his supercilious conduct and certainty of subduing me, I naturally turned again to my good host and hostess.