She told me that you had some printing-press in your room to set up your pamphlets, and that the tap, tap at night had kept her awake.

It's no concern of mine.

I don't care what you do or what rubbish you print, but I can't bear to see the little woman getting frailer and frailer, Isaac." "She told you that ?" Isaac muttered.
"She told me that," Arnold assented.

"What is there in it ?" Isaac looked at him for a moment with an intentness which was indescribable.

His black eyes seemed on fire with suspicion, with searchfulness.