asked for ’his Secretary,’ and not for Mr Grendall, but for the rumours.  It is so hard not to tumble into Scylla when you are avoiding Charybdis.  Mr Grendall had not been there.  Indeed, nobody had been there.  ’In fact, there is nothing more to be done, I suppose?’ said Mr Melmotte.  The senior understrapper thought that there was nothing more to be done.  He left word that his brougham should be sent away, and strolled out again on foot.

He went up into Covent Garden, where there was a polling booth.  The place seemed to him, as one of the chief centres for a contested election, to be wonderfully quiet.  He was determined to face everybody and everything, and he went close up to the booth.  Here he was recognised by various men, mechanics...