In deep dejection Mr. Snagsby sits down on his stool, with his back against his desk, protesting, "I never had a secret of my own, sir. I can't charge my memory with ever having once attempted to deceive my little woman on my own account since she named the day. I wouldn't have done it, sir. Not to put too fine a point upon it, I couldn't have done it, I dursn't have done it. Whereas, and nevertheless, I find myself wrapped round with secrecy and mystery, till my life is a burden to me."

I never had a secret of my own, sir. I have never once attempted to deceive my little woman since she named the day. I couldn't have done it. Whereas, nevertheless, I find myself wrapped round with secrecy and mystery, till my life is a burden to me."
