Let any one who doubts this, compare the two.
The old gentleman looked almost as rueful as Oliver when the key grated in the lock.

He turned with a sigh to the book, which had been the innocent cause of all this disturbance.
'There is something in that boy's face,' said the old gentleman to himself as he walked slowly away, tapping his chin with the cover of the book, in a thoughtful manner; 'something that touches and interests me.

_Can_ he be innocent?
He looked like--Bye the bye,' exclaimed the old gentleman, halting very abruptly, and staring up into the sky, 'Bless my soul!--where have I seen something like that look before ?' After musing for some minutes, the old gentleman walked, with the same meditative face, into a back anteroom opening from the yard; and there, retiring into a corner, called up before his mind's eye a vast amphitheatre of faces over which a dusky curtain had hung for many years.

'No,' said the old gentleman, shaking his head; 'it must be imagination.
He wandered over them again.

He had called them into view, and it was not easy to replace the shroud that had so long concealed them.