"IS it?" returns his friend. "Not so easily as you think. It has been smouldering like that ever since it was lighted."
"Why, what's the matter with you, Tony?" inquires Mr. Guppy, looking at him, snuffers in hand, as he sits down with his elbow on the table.
"William Guppy," replies the other, "I am in the downs. It's this unbearably dull, suicidal room--and old Boguey downstairs, I suppose." Mr. Weevle moodily pushes the snuffers-tray from him with his elbow, leans his head on his hand, puts his feet on the fender, and looks at the fire. Mr. Guppy, observing him, slightly tosses his head and sits down on the other side of the table in an easy attitude.

"It has been smouldering like that ever since it was lighted."
"Why, what's the matter with you, Tony?" inquires Mr. Guppy.
"William Guppy," replies the other, "I am in the downs. It's this unbearably dull, suicidal room - and old Bogey downstairs, I suppose." Mr. Weevle leans his head on his hand. Mr. Guppy sits down in an easy attitude.
