"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 eye 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 rigour 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.

"I dare say you would! You relate everything to me, Mr. Snagsby."
"Every - my lit-"
"I should be glad," says Mrs. Snagsby, contemplating his 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 am ready to go."
Mr. Snagsby accompanies his wife from the Sol's Arms. Before night his doubt whether he may not be responsible for some inconceivable part in the catastrophe is almost resolved into certainty by Mrs. Snagsby's fixed gaze. He even has wandering ideas of delivering himself up to justice.
Mr. Weevle and Mr. Guppy, having taken their breakfast, step into Lincoln's Inn to walk about the square.
