The old man, in aiming a purposeless blow at Mr. Guppy, or at nothing, feebly swings himself round and comes with his face against the wall. So he remains for a minute or two, heaped up against it, and then staggers down the shop to the front door. The air, the movement in the court, the lapse of time, or the combination of these things recovers him. He comes back pretty steadily, adjusting his fur cap on his head and looking keenly at them.
"Your servant, gentlemen; I've been dozing. Hi! I am hard to wake, odd times."
"Rather so, indeed, sir," responds Mr. Guppy.

The old man, in aiming a purposeless blow at Mr. Guppy, feebly swings himself round and comes with his face against the wall. So he remains for a minute, and then staggers to the front door. The air revives him. He comes back pretty steadily, adjusting his fur cap on his head and looking keenly at them.
"Your servant, gentlemen; I've been dozing. Hi! I am hard to wake, at times."
"Rather so, indeed, sir," responds Mr. Guppy.
