_Heep_.--Is Mr. Micawber in?

_Mrs. Mic_.--No, Mr. Heep. Mr. Micawber has gone out. We make no
stranger of you, Mr. Heep, so I don't mind telling you Mr. Micawber's
affairs have reached a crisis. With the exception of a heel of Dutch
cheese, which is not adapted to the wants of a young family,--and
including the twins,--there is nothing to eat in the house.

_Heep_.--How dreadful! (_Aside_.) The very man for my purpose.
(_Explanation_. At this moment there is a noise heard on the landing.
Micawber himself rushes into the room, slamming the door behind him.)

_Micawber_.--(_Not seeing Heep_.) The clouds have gathered, the
storm has broken, and the thunderbolt has fallen on the devoted head of
Wilkins Micawber! Emma, my dear, the die is cast. All is over. Leave me in
my misery!

_Mrs. Mic_.--I'll never desert my Micawber!

_Mic_.--In the words of the immortal Plato, "It must be so, Cato!"
But no man is without a friend when he is possessed of courage and shaving
materials! Emma, my love, fetch me my razors! (_Recovers himself_)
sh--sh! We are not alone! (_Gayly_) Oh, Mr. Heep! Delighted to see
you, my young friend! Ah, my dear young attorney-general, in prospective,
if I had only known you when my troubles commenced, my creditors would
have been a great deal better managed than they were! You will pardon the
momentary laceration of a wounded spirit, made sensitive by a recent
collision with a minion of the law,--in short, with a ribald turncock
attached to the waterworks. Emma, my love, our supply of water has been
cut off. Hope has sunk beneath the horizon! Bring me a pint of laudanum!