He anticipated Mr Boffin's consideration whether he should be advised with on this or that topic, by showing that he already knew of it and understood it.

He did this with no attempt at concealment, seeming to be satisfied that it was part of his duty to have prepared himself at all attainable points for its utmost discharge.
This might--let it be repeated--have awakened some little vague mistrust in a man more worldly-wise than the Golden Dustman.

On the other hand, the Secretary was discerning, discreet, and silent, though as zealous as if the affairs had been his own.

He showed no love of patronage or the command of money, but distinctly preferred resigning both to Mr Boffin.

If, in his limited sphere, he sought power, it was the power of knowledge; the power derivable from a perfect comprehension of his business.
As on the Secretary's face there was a nameless cloud, so on his manner there was a shadow equally indefinable.