Guy Hammersley; or, Clearing his Name — page 37: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

28 GUY HAMMERSLEY. threw his head back and folded his arms, and thus awaited their arrival with the air of a supreme court judge. He wasa very stout man, with an immense double chin, but, contrary to the rule that is supposed to hold good with most fat people, he did not look in the least jolly, or as if he ever could be so. Before Guy and his conductor reached his apartment, which was cut off from the main store by a glass partition, alittle man, very thin, and with an immense amount of jewelry about his person, stepped out of the adjoining room, ranged himself alongside of Mr. Inwood and put a pair of eyeglasses astride of his nose. ‘‘That’s Mr. Tretbar, I suppose, the head of the establishment,” Guy reflected, the hopes that had served in a measure to brighten his trip down-town deserting him as he noted the sinister looks of the two men in whose hands his fate rested. ‘*Ah, good afternoon, Mr. Fox,” exclaimed the little man, coming forward to shake hands very effusively. ‘< I’m very glad to see you, er—I mean sorry that it should be brought about by such an inauspicious occasion. Takea seat, take a seat. So this is the young man. Um!” Mr. Tretbar drew out the last exclamation to a lengthy guttural murmur, as if Guy had possessed the features and general appearance of a hardened criminal. He did not request him to take a seat, but as soon as he had entered walked over to the door, closed it, and then stood with his back against it, as though to nip in the bud any attempt at escape, (EONNIELOOOKS (EO) m