‘I wonder you could come away, Mr. Craggs,’ said his wife.
‘Mr. Craggs is fortunate, I’m sure!’ said Mrs. Snitchey.
‘That office so engrosses ’em,’ said Mrs. Craggs.
‘A person with an office has no business to be married at all,’ said Mrs. Snitchey.
Then, Mrs. Snitchey said, within herself, that that look of hers had pierced to Craggs’s soul, and he knew it; and Mrs. Craggs observed to Craggs, that ‘his Snitcheys’ were deceiving him behind his back, and he would find it out when it was too late.
Still, Mr. Craggs, without much heeding these remarks, looked uneasily about until his eye rested on Grace, to whom he immediately presented himself.
‘Good evening, ma’am,’ said Craggs. ‘You look charmingly. Your—Miss—your sister, Miss Marion, is she—’
‘Oh, she’s quite well, Mr. Craggs.’
‘Yes—I—is she here?’ asked Craggs.
‘Here! Don’t you see her yonder? Going to dance?’ said Grace.