"I dare say Mr.Weatherley will be getting impatient, and he probably saw me come in." "I want to ask you," Mr.Jarvis began, impressively, "whether you noticed anything peculiar about the governor's manner this morning ?" "I don't think so--not especially," Arnold replied.
Mr.Jarvis took off his gold-rimmed spectacles and wiped them carefully.
"Mr.Weatherley," he proceeded, "has always been a gentleman of very regular habits--he and his father before him.

I have been in the service of the firm for thirty-five years, Mr.Chetwode, so you can understand that my interest is not merely a business one." "Quite so," Arnold agreed, glancing at the man by his side with a momentary curiosity.

He had been in Tooley Street for four months, and even now he was still unused to the close atmosphere, the pungent smells, the yellow fog which seemed always more or less to hang about in the streets; the dark, cavernous-looking warehouse with its gloomy gas-jets always burning.

From where they were standing at that moment, the figures of the draymen and warehousemen moving backwards and forwards seemed like phantoms in some subterranean world.

It was odd to think of thirty-five years spent amid such surroundings! "It is a long time," he remarked.
Mr.Jarvis nodded.
"I mention it," he said, "so that you may understand that my remarks to you are not dictated by curiosity or impertinence.