requested to follow into the drawing-room
doorway, where Mr. Guppy takes him in hand as a witness, patting him into this
shape, that shape, and the other shape, like a butterman dealing with so much
butter, and worrying him according to the best models. Nor is the examination
unlike many such model displays, both in respect of its eliciting nothing, and
of its being lengthy; for, Mr. Guppy is sensible of his talent, and Mrs. Snagsby
feels, not only that it gratifies her inquisitive disposition, but that it lifts
her husband's establishment higher up in the law. During the progress of this
keen encounter, the vessel Chadband, being merely engaged in the oil trade, gets
aground, and waits to be floated off.
    »Well!« says Mr. Guppy, »either this boy sticks to it like cobbler's-wax, or
there is something out of the common here that beats anything that ever came
into my way at Kenge and Carboy's.«
    Mrs. Chadband whispers Mrs. Snagsby, who exclaims, »You don't say so!«
    »For years!« replies Mrs. Chadband.
    »Has known Kenge and Carboy's office for years,« Mrs. Snagsby triumphantly
explains to Mr. Guppy. »Mrs. Chadband - this gentleman's wife - Reverend Mr.
Chadband.«
    »Oh, indeed!« says Mr. Guppy.
    »Before I married my present husband,« says Mrs. Chadband.
    »Was you a party in anything, ma'am?« says Mr. Guppy, transferring his
cross-examination.
    »No.«
    »Not a party in anything, ma'am?« says Mr. Guppy.
    Mrs. Chadband shakes her head.
    »Perhaps you were acquainted with somebody who was a party in something,
ma'am?« says Mr. Guppy, who likes nothing better than to model his conversation
on forensic principles.
    »Not exactly that, either,« replies Mrs. Chadband, humouring the joke with a
hard-favoured smile.
    »Not exactly that, either!« repeats Mr. Guppy. »Very good. Pray, ma'am, was
it a lady of your acquaintance who had some transactions (we will not at present
say what transactions) with Kenge and Carboy's office, or was it a gentleman of
your acquaintance? Take time, ma'am. We shall come to it presently. Man or
woman, ma'am?«
    »Neither,« says Mrs. Chadband, as before