Even the craven Fledgeby felt that the time was now come when he must strike a blow. He struck it by saying, partly to Mrs. Lammle and partly to the circumambient air, “I consider myself very fortunate in being reserved by⁠—”

As he stopped dead, Mr. Lammle, making that gingerous bush of his whiskers to look out of, offered him the word “Destiny.”

“No, I wasn’t going to say that,” said Fledgeby. “I was going to say Fate. I consider it very fortunate that Fate has written in the book of⁠—in the book which is its own property⁠—that I should go to that opera for the first time under the memorable circumstances of going with Miss Podsnap.”

To which Georgiana replied, hooking her two little fingers in one another, and addressing the tablecloth, “Thank you, but I generally go with no one but you, Sophronia, and I like that very much.”