It is no phenomenon that Mr. Snagsby should be ill at ease too, for he always is so, more or less, under the oppressive influence of the secret that is upon him. Impelled by the mystery of which he is a partaker and yet in which he is not a sharer, Mr. Snagsby haunts what seems to be its fountain-head--the rag and bottle shop in the court. It has an irresistible attraction for him. Even now, coming round by the Sol's Arms with the intention of passing down the court, and out at the Chancery Lane end, and so terminating his unpremeditated after-supper stroll of ten minutes' long from his own door and back again, Mr. Snagsby approaches.

It is no surprise that Mr. Snagsby should be ill at ease too, for he always is so, under the oppressive influence of his secret. Impelled by the mystery, Mr. Snagsby haunts what seems to be its fountain-head - the rag and bottle shop. It has an irresistible attraction for him. Coming there now, he sees Mr. Weevle.
