Toole was bound upon a melancholy mission that morning. But though
properly a minister of life, a doctor is also conversant with death, and
inured to the sight of familiar faces in that remarkable disguise. So he
spurred away with more coolness, though not less regret than another
man, to throw what light he could upon the subject of the inquest which
was to sit upon the body of poor Charles Nutter.
The little doctor, on his way to Ringsend, without the necessity of
diverging to the right or left, drew bridle at the door of Mr. Luke
Gamble, on the Blind Quay, attorney to the late Charles Nutter, and
jumping to the ground, delivered a rattling summons thereupon.
It was a dusty, dreary, wainscoted old house--indeed, two old houses
intermarried--with doors broken through the partition walls--the floors
not all of a level--joined by steps up and down--and having three great
staircases, that made it confusing. Through the windows it was not easy
to see, such a fantastic mapping of thick dust and dirt coated the
glass.
Luke Gamble, like the house, had seen better days. It was not his fault;
but an absconding partner had well nigh been his ruin: and, though he
paid their liabilities, it was with a strain, and left him a poor man,
shattered his connexion, and made the house too large by a great deal
for his business.
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