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    his hand upon the white cloth I had observed

    her; how I had no fears of poverty, if she had none, my arm being

    received various answers One said she lived in the South

    always spoke of himself indefinitely, as ‘a man’, and seldom or

    wandering in and out every half-hour or so, and taking another

    “Stormy Petrel” now What does Mr Peggotty care for Stormy

    ‘My mother,’ I rejoined

    When we passed through a village, I pictured to myself what the

    will succeed me—I am in earnest at last—so you’ll soon have to

    He showed it to me It was a town on the Upper Rhine He had

    too well, as his grave figure passes onward, what he seeks, and

    impaired the little dignity I had been able to muster I am afraid I

    who is trying to wipe the sting out with a pocket-handkerchief I

    and could give your own message so much better’

    Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

    stopped at the umble point of my learning, and says I, “Hold

    recollection rises fresh upon me Once more the little room, with

    Peggotty, ‘but I hadn’t an opportunity I ought to have made it,

    too bewildering To see her lay the flowers against her little

    up; and it shrunk so much in a liquid state, that we found it what

    heart turned naturally there, and found its refuge and best friend

    ‘Yes, William,’ I said, condescendingly (I knew him); ‘I am going

    the competition rose to such a pitch, that a shy gentleman in want

    ‘Heaven bless you!’ she said, giving me her hand


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