Sir David Suchet

Intently watchful of me, he replied, but without sound.

However be that as it may, I never was there.

You may swear.

I think I may, he rejoined.

Yes, I'm sure I may.

His manner cleared like my own.

He replied to my remarks with readiness and in well-chosen words.

Had he much to do there?

Yes, for that was to say, he had enough responsibility to bear.

But exactness and watchfulness were what was required of him, and of actual work, manual labour, he had next to none.

To change the signal, to trim those lights, and to turn this iron handle now and then was all he had to do under that head.

Regarding those many long and lonely hours of which I seemed to make so much, he could only say that the routine of his life had shaped itself into that form, and he had grown used to it.

He had taught himself a language down here.

if only to know it by sight and to have formed his own crude ideas of its pronunciation, could be called learning it.

He had also worked at fractions and decimals and tried a little algebra, but he was and had been as a boy a poor hand at figures.

Was it necessary for him when on duty always to remain in that channel of damp air?

And could he never rise into the sunshine from between those high stone walls?

why that depended upon times and circumstances.

Under some conditions there would be less upon the line than under others, and the same held good as to certain hours of the day and night.

In bright weather he did choose occasions for getting a little above these lower shadows, but being at all times liable to be called by his electric bell,