Page:Bleak House.djvu/434

“Why do you come here?” inquires Mrs. Snagsby.

“My dear, merely to know the rights of the fatal accident which has happened to the venerable party who has been—combusted.” Mr. Snagsby has made a pause to suppress a groan. “I should then have related them to you, my love, over your French roll.”

“I dare say you would! You relate everything to me, Mr. Snagsby.”

“Every—my lit—?”

“I should be glad,” says Mrs. Snagsby, after contemplating his increased confusion with a severe and sinister smile, “if you would come home with me; I think you may be safer there, Mr. Snagsby, than anywhere else.”

“My love, I don't know but what I may be, I am sure. I am ready to go.”

Mr. Snagsby casts his eyes forlornly round the bar, gives Messrs. Weevle and Guppy good morning, assures them of the satisfaction with which he sees them uninjured, and accompanies Mrs. Snagsby from the Sol's Arms. Before night, his doubt whether he may not be responsible for some inconceivable part in the catastrophe which is the talk of the whole neighbourhood, is almost resolved into certainty by Mrs. Snagsby's pertinacity in that fixed gaze. His mental sufferings are so great, that he entertains wandering ideas of delivering himself up to justice, and requiring to be cleared, if innocent, and punished with the utmost rigor of the law, if guilty.

Mr. Weevle and Mr. Guppy, having taken their breakfast, step into Lincoln's Inn to take a little walk about the square, and clear as many of the dark cobwebs out of their brains as a little walk may.

“There can be no more favorable time than the present, Tony,” says Mr. Guppy, after they have broodingly made out the four sides of the square, for a word or two between us, upon a point on which we must, with very little delay, come to an understanding.”

“Now, I tell you what, William G!” returns the other, eyeing his companion with a bloodshot eye. “If it's a point of conspiracy, you needn't take the trouble to mention it. I have had enough of that, and I ain't going to have any more. We shall have you taking fire next, or blowing up with a bang.”

“This supposititious phenomenon is so very disagreeable to Mr. Guppy that his voice quakes, as he says in a moral way, “Tony, I should have thought that what we went through last night, would have been a lesson to you never to be personal any more as long as you lived.” To which Mr. Weevle returns, “William, I should have thought it would have been a lesson to you never to conspire any more as long as you lived. To which Mr. Guppy says, “Who's conspiring?” To which Mr. Jobling replies, “Why, you are!” To which Mr. Guppy retorts, “No, I am not.” To which Mr. Jobling retorts again, “Yes, you are!” To which Mr. Guppy retorts, “Who says so?” To which Mr. Jobling retorts, “I say so!” To which Mr. Guppy retorts, “Oh, indeed?” To which Mr. Jobling retorts, “Yes, indeed!” And both being now in a heated state, they walk on silently for a while, to cool down again.

“Tony,” says Mr. Guppy, then, “if you heard your friend out, instead of flying at him, you wouldn't fall into mistakes. But your temper is hasty, and you are not considerate. Possessing in yourself, Tony, all that is calculated to charm the eye———”