The progress of Mr Nadgett’s secret satisfaction arising out of the effect they made, kept pace with the emotions of the reader. At first, Mr Nadgett sat with his spectacles low down upon his nose, looking over them at his employer, and nervously rubbing his hands. After a little while, he changed his posture in his chair for one of greater ease, and leisurely perused the next document he held ready as if an occasional glance at his employer’s face were now enough and all occasion for anxiety or doubt were gone. And finally he rose and looked out of the window, where he stood with a triumphant air until Tigg Montague had finished.
‘And this is the last, Mr Nadgett!’ said that gentleman, drawing a long breath.
‘That, sir, is the last.’
‘You are a wonderful man, Mr Nadgett!’
‘I think it is a pretty good case,’ he returned as he gathered up his papers. ‘It cost some trouble, sir.’
‘The trouble shall be well rewarded, Mr Nadgett.’ Nadgett bowed. ‘There is a deeper impression of Somebody’s Hoof here, than I had expected, Mr Nadgett. I may congratulate myself upon your being such a good hand at a secret.’
‘Oh! nothing has an interest to me that’s not a secret,’ replied Nadgett, as he tied the string about his pocket-book, and put it up. ‘It always takes away any pleasure I may have had in this inquiry even to make it known to you.’
‘A most invaluable constitution,’ Tigg retorted. ‘A great gift for a gentleman employed as you are, Mr Nadgett. Much better than discretion; though you possess that quality also in an eminent degree. I think I heard a double knock. Will you put your head out of window, and tell me whether there is anybody at the door?’
Mr Nadgett softly raised the sash, and peered out from the very corner, as a man might who was looking down into a street from whence a brisk discharge of musketry might be expected at any moment. Drawing in his head with equal caution, he observed, not altering his voice or manner:
‘Mr Jonas Chuzzlewit!’