"My little woman," said Mr. Snagsby, sitting down in the remotest corner by the door, as if he were taking a liberty, "it is not unlikely that you may inquire of me why Inspector Bucket, Mr. Woodcourt, and a lady call upon us in Cook's Court, Cursitor Street, at the present hour. I don't know. I have not the least idea. If I was to be informed, I should despair of understanding, and I'd rather not be told."
He appeared so miserable, sitting with his head upon his hand, and I appeared so unwelcome, that I was going to offer an apology when Mr. Bucket took the matter on himself.
"Now, Mr. Snagsby," said he, "the best thing you can do is to go along with Mr. Woodcourt to look after your Guster--"
"My Guster, Mr. Bucket!" cried Mr. Snagsby. "Go on, sir, go on. I shall be charged with that next."

"My little woman," said Mr. Snagsby, sitting down by the door, "you may ask why Inspector Bucket, Mr. Woodcourt, and a lady call upon us at the present hour. I don't know. I have not the least idea. In fact, I'd rather not be told."
He appeared so miserable, sitting with his head upon his hand, and I appeared so unwelcome, that I was going to offer an apology when Mr. Bucket spoke.
"Now, Mr. Snagsby," said he, "you go along with Mr. Woodcourt to look after your Guster-"
"My Guster, Mr. Bucket!" cried Mr. Snagsby. "Go on, sir. I shall be charged with that next."
