He goes a short way, turns back, comes again to the shop of Mr.Krook, and enters it straight.

It is dim enough, with a blot-headed candle or so in the windows, and an old man and a cat sitting in the back part by a fire.

The old man rises and comes forward, with another blot-headed candle in his hand.
"Pray is your lodger within ?" "Male or female, sir ?" says Mr.Krook.
"Male.

The person who does copying." Mr.Krook has eyed his man narrowly.

Knows him by sight.