“I am at a loss, sir,” said I, “to imagine what you can have to communicate in total confidence to me, whom you have never seen but once; but I should be very sorry to do you any injury.”
“Thank you, miss. I’m sure of it—that’s quite sufficient.” All this time Mr. Guppy was either planing his forehead with his handkerchief or tightly rubbing the palm of his left hand with the palm of his right. “If you would excuse my taking another glass of wine, miss, I think it might assist me in getting on without a continual choke that cannot fail to be mutually unpleasant.”
He did so, and came back again. I took the opportunity of moving well behind my table.
“You wouldn’t allow me to offer you one, would you miss?” said Mr. Guppy, apparently refreshed.
“Not any,” said I.
“Not half a glass?” said Mr. Guppy. “Quarter? No! Then, to proceed. My present salary, Miss Summerson, at Kenge and Carboy’s, is two pound a week. When I first had the happiness of looking upon