"He come in at the door," said the old man, slowly pointing an imaginary track along the shop, "on the day he did it--the whole neighbourhood had said for months before that he would do it, of a certainty sooner or later--he come in at the door that day, and walked along there, and sat himself on a bench that stood there, and asked me (you'll judge I was a mortal sight younger then) to fetch him a pint of wine. 'For,' says he, 'Krook, I am much depressed; my cause is on again, and I think I'm nearer judgment than I ever was.' I hadn't a mind to leave him alone; and I persuaded him to go to the tavern over the way there, t'other side my lane (I mean Chancery Lane); and I followed and looked in at the window, and saw him, comfortable as I thought, in the arm-chair by the fire, and company with him. I hadn't hardly got back here when I heard a shot go echoing and rattling right away into the inn. I ran out--neighbours ran out--twenty of us cried at once, 'Tom Jarndyce!'"

"He come in at the door," said the old man, "on the day he did it - the whole neighbourhood had said for months that he would do it, sooner or later - he come in that day, and sat himself on a bench there, and asked me (I was a mortal sight younger then) to fetch him a pint of wine. 'For,' says he, 'Krook, I am much depressed; my cause is on again.' I persuaded him to go to the tavern across the way; and I followed and looked in at the window, and saw him, comfortable in the arm-chair by the fire, and company with him. I hadn't hardly got back here when I heard a shot go echoing. I ran out - neighbours ran out - twenty of us cried at once, 'Tom Jarndyce!'"
