“My love,” said Mr. Micawber, much affected, “you will forgive, and our old and tried friend Copperfield will, I am sure, forgive, the momentary laceration of a wounded spirit, made sensitive by a recent collision with the Minion of Power⁠—in other words, with a ribald Turncock attached to the waterworks⁠—and will pity, not condemn, its excesses.”

Mr. Micawber then embraced Mrs. Micawber, and pressed my hand; leaving me to infer from this broken allusion that his domestic supply of water had been cut off that afternoon, in consequence of default in the payment of the company’s rates.