The Cook's Courtiers had a rumour flying among them that the mother of this niece did, in her daughter's childhood, moved by too jealous a solicitude that her figure should approach perfection, lace her up every morning with her maternal foot against the bed-post for a stronger hold and purchase; and further, that she exhibited internally pints of vinegar and lemon-juice, which acids, they held, had mounted to the nose and temper of the patient.

With whichsoever of the many tongues of Rumour this frothy report originated, it either never reached or never influenced the ears of young Snagsby, who, having wooed and won its fair subject on his arrival at man's estate, entered into two partnerships at once.

So now, in Cook's Court, Cursitor Street, Mr.Snagsby and the niece are one; and the niece still cherishes her figure, which, however tastes may differ, is unquestionably so far precious that there is mighty little of it.
Mr.and Mrs.Snagsby are not only one bone and one flesh, but, to the neighbours' thinking, one voice too.

That voice, appearing to proceed from Mrs.Snagsby alone, is heard in Cook's Court very often.

Mr.
Snagsby, otherwise than as he finds expression through these dulcet tones, is rarely heard.