"I found him dead."
"Oh, dear me!" remonstrated Sir Leicester. Not so much shocked by the fact, as by the fact of the fact being mentioned.
"I was directed to his lodging—a miserable, poverty-stricken place—and I found him dead."
"You will excuse me, Mr. Tulkinghorn," observes Sir Leicester. "I think the less said—"
"Pray, Sir Leicester, let me hear the story out;" (it is my Lady speaking.) "It is quite a story for twilight. How very shocking! Dead?"
Mr. Tulkinghorn re-asserts it by another inclination of his head. "Whether by his own hand—"
"Upon my honor!" cries Sir Leicester. "Really!"
"Do let me hear the story!" says my Lady.
"Whatever you desire, my dear. But, I must say—"
"No, you mustn't say! Go on, Mr. Tulkinghorn."