"I don't know," says Sir Leicester, opening his eyes, "why Mr. Tulkinghorn should be worked to death. I don't know what Mr. Tulkinghorn's engagements may be. He is not a candidate."
Volumnia had thought he might have been employed. Sir Leicester could desire to know by whom, and what for. Volumnia, abashed again, suggests, by somebody--to advise and make arrangements. Sir Leicester is not aware that any client of Mr. Tulkinghorn has been in need of his assistance.
Lady Dedlock, seated at an open window with her arm upon its cushioned ledge and looking out at the evening shadows falling on the park, has seemed to attend since the lawyer's name was mentioned.
A languid cousin with a moustache in a state of extreme debility now observes from his couch that man told him ya'as'dy that Tulkinghorn had gone down t' that iron place t' give legal 'pinion 'bout something, and that contest being over t' day, 'twould be highly jawlly thing if Tulkinghorn should 'pear with news that Coodle man was floored.

"I don't know why he should be," says Sir Leicester. "He is not a candidate."
Lady Dedlock, seated at an open window and looking out at the evening shadows, seems to attend since the lawyer's name was mentioned.
A languid cousin with a moustache in a state of extreme debility now observes from his couch that man told him ya'sdy that Tulkinghorn had gone down t' that iron place t' give legal 'pinion 'bout something, and 'twould be highly jawlly thing if Tulkinghorn should bring news that Coodle man was floored.
