“Never.”

“He is a thorough Jew to look at, but he is a more thorough Jew to deal with. He’s worst when he’s quiet. If he’s quiet, I shall take it as a very bad sign. Keep your eye upon him when he comes in, and, if he’s quiet, don’t be hopeful. Here he is!⁠—He looks quiet.”

With these words, which had the effect of causing the harmless Twemlow painful agitation, Mr. Fledgeby withdrew to his former post, and the old man entered the countinghouse.

“Why, Mr. Riah,” said Fledgeby, “I thought you were lost!”

The old man, glancing at the stranger, stood stock-still. He perceived that his master was leading up to the orders he was to take, and he waited to understand them.