You see, he is discontented, poor fellow.' 'Why isn't he contented ?' was the natural inquiry.
'Misplaced,' said Mr.Grewgious, with great mystery.
Rosa's eyebrows resumed their inquisitive and perplexed expression.
'So misplaced,' Mr.Grewgious went on, 'that I feel constantly apologetic towards him.

And he feels (though he doesn't mention it) that I have reason to be.' Mr.Grewgious had by this time grown so very mysterious, that Rosa did not know how to go on.

While she was thinking about it Mr.Grewgious suddenly jerked out of himself for the second time: 'Let's talk.

We were speaking of Mr.Bazzard.

It's a secret, and moreover it is Mr.Bazzard's secret; but the sweet presence at my table makes me so unusually expansive, that I feel I must impart it in inviolable confidence.