"And Mr. Guppy likewise!" quoth Mr. Snagsby. "Dear, dear, dear! What a fate there seems in all this! And my lit--"
Mr. Snagsby's power of speech deserts him in the formation of the words "my little woman." For to see that injured female walk into the Sol's Arms at that hour of the morning and stand before the beer-engine, with her eyes fixed upon him like an accusing spirit, strikes him dumb.
"My dear," says Mr. Snagsby when his tongue is loosened, "will you take anything? A little--not to put too fine a point upon it--drop of shrub?"
"No," says Mrs. Snagsby.

"And Mr. Guppy likewise!" says Mr. Snagsby. "Dear, dear! What a fate there seems in all this! And my lit-"
Mr. Snagsby's power of speech deserts him in the formation of the words "my little woman." For that injured female walks into the Sol's Arms with her eyes fixed upon him like an accusing spirit, striking him dumb.
"My dear," says Mr. Snagsby when his tongue is loosened, "will you take anything?"
"No," says Mrs. Snagsby.
