Mr. George sits squared in exactly the same attitude, looks at the painted ceiling, and says never a word. The irascible Mr. Smallweed scratches the air.
"The question is," says Mr. Tulkinghorn in his methodical, subdued, uninterested way, "first, whether you have any of Captain Hawdon's writing?"
"First, whether I have any of Captain Hawdon's writing, sir," repeats Mr. George.
"Secondly, what will satisfy you for the trouble of producing it?"
"Secondly, what will satisfy me for the trouble of producing it, sir," repeats Mr. George.
"Thirdly, you can judge for yourself whether it is at all like that," says Mr. Tulkinghorn, suddenly handing him some sheets of written paper tied together.
"Whether it is at all like that, sir. Just so," repeats Mr. George.
All three repetitions Mr. George pronounces in a mechanical manner, looking straight at Mr. Tulkinghorn; nor does he so much as glance at the affidavit in Jarndyce and Jarndyce, that has been given to him for his inspection (though he still holds it in his hand), but continues to look at the lawyer with an air of troubled meditation.

Mr. George says never a word. The irascible Mr. Smallweed scratches the air.
"The question is," says Mr. Tulkinghorn in his methodical, uninterested way, "first, whether you have any of Captain Hawdon's writing? Secondly, what will satisfy you for the trouble of producing it? Thirdly, you can judge for yourself whether it is at all like that," says Mr. Tulkinghorn, suddenly handing him some sheets of written paper.
Mr. George looks straight at Mr. Tulkinghorn; he does not so much as glance at the affidavit in Jarndyce and Jarndyce, that has been given to him for his inspection.
