
    »Undoubtedly,« says Cousin Feenix. »In point of fact, it's quite a
self-evident sort of thing. I am extremely anxious, Major, that my friend Dombey
should hear me express my very great astonishment and regret, that my lovely and
accomplished relative, who was possessed of every qualification to make a man
happy, should have so far forgotten what was due to - in point of fact, to the
world - as to commit herself in such a very extraordinary manner. I have been in
a devilish state of depression ever since; and said indeed to Long Saxby last
night - man of six foot ten, with whom my friend Dombey is probably acquainted -
that it had upset me in a confounded way, and made me bilious. It induces a man
to reflect, this kind of fatal catastrophe,« says Cousin Feenix, »that events do
occur in quite a Providential manner; for if my Aunt had been living at the
time, I think the effect upon a devilish lively woman like herself, would have
been prostration, and that she would have fallen, in point of fact, a victim.«
    »Now, Dombey! -« says the Major, resuming his discourse with great energy.
    »I beg your pardon,« interposes Cousin Feenix. »Allow me another word. My
friend Dombey will permit me to say, that if any circumstance could have added
to the most infernal state of pain in which I find myself on this occasion, it
would be the natural amazement of the world at my lovely and accomplished
relative (as I must still beg leave to call her) being supposed to have so
committed herself with a person - man with white teeth, in point of fact - of
very inferior station to her husband. But while I must, rather peremptorily,
request my friend Dombey not to criminate my lovely and accomplished relative
until her criminality is perfectly established, I beg to assure my friend Dombey
that the family I represent, and which is now almost extinct (devilish sad
reflection for a man), will interpose no obstacle in his way, and will be happy
to assent to any honourable course of proceeding, with a view to the future,
that he may point out. I trust my friend Dombey will give me credit for the
intentions by which I am animated in this very melancholy affair, and - a - in
point of fact, I am not aware that I need trouble my friend Dombey with any
further observations.«
    Mr. Dombey bows, without raising his eyes, and is silent.
    »Now, Dombey,
