Do you hear, Jo?  It is nothing to you or to any one else that the great lights of the parliamentary sky have failed for some few years in this business to set you the example of moving on.  The one grand recipe remains for you—­the profound philosophical prescription—­the be-all and the end-all of your strange existence upon earth.  Move on!  You are by no means to move off, Jo, for the great lights can’t at all agree about that.  Move on!

Mr. Snagsby says nothing to this effect, says nothing at all indeed, but coughs his forlornest cough, expressive of no thoroughfare in any direction.  By this time Mr. and Mrs. Chadband and Mrs. Snagsby, hearing the altercation, have appeared upon the stairs.  Guster having never left the end of the passage, the whole household are assembled.

“The simple question is, sir,” says the constable, “whether you know this boy.  He says you do.”

Mrs. Snagsby, from her elevation, instantly cries out, “No he don’t!”

“My lit-tle woman!” says Mr. Snagsby, looking up the staircase.  “My love, permit me!  Pray have a moment’s patience, my dear.  I do know something of this lad, and in what I know of him, I can’t say that there’s any harm; perhaps on the contrary, constable.”  To whom the law-stationer relates his Joful and woeful experience, suppressing the half-crown fact.

“Well!” says the constable, “so far, it seems, he had grounds for what he said.  When I took him into custody up in Holborn, he said you knew him.  Upon that, a young man who was in the crowd said he was acquainted with you, and you were a respectable housekeeper, and if I’d call and make the inquiry, he’d appear.  The young man don’t seem inclined to keep his word, but—­Oh!  Here is the young man!”

Enter Mr. Guppy, who nods to Mr. Snagsby and touches his hat with the chivalry of clerkship to the ladies on the stairs.

“I was strolling away from the office just now when I found this row going on,” says Mr. Guppy to the law-stationer, “and as your name was mentioned, I thought it was right the thing should be looked into.”

“It was very good-natured of you, sir,” says Mr. Snagsby, “and I am obliged to you.”  And Mr. Snagsby again relates his experience, again suppressing the half-crown fact.

“Now, I know where you live,” says the constable, then, to Jo.  “You live down in Tom-all-Alone’s.  That’s a nice innocent place to live in, ain’t it?”

“I can’t go and live in no nicer place, sir,” replies Jo.  “They wouldn’t have nothink to say to me if I wos to go to a nice innocent place fur to live.  Who ud go and let a nice innocent lodging to such a reg’lar one as me!”

“You are very poor, ain’t you?” says the constable.

“Yes, I am indeed, sir, wery poor in gin’ral,” replies Jo.  “I leave you to judge now!  I shook these two half-crowns out of him,” says the constable, producing them to the company, “in only putting my hand upon him!”