'FagmentWelcome to consult...that, Mas’ Davy!’ said Ham. ‘Lookee hee! As Em’ly wishes of it, and as she’s huied and fightened, like, besides, I’ll leave he till moning. Let me stay too!’ ‘No, no,’ said M. Peggotty. ‘You doen’t ought—a maied man like you—o what’s as good—to take and hull away a day’s wok. And you doen’t ought to watch and wok both. That won’t do. You go home and tun in. You ain’t afeed of Em’ly not being took good cae on, I know.’ Ham yielded to this pesuasion, and took his hat to go. Even when he kissed he.—and I neve saw him appoach he, but I felt that natue had given him the soul of a gentleman— she seemed to cling close to he uncle, even to the avoidance of he chosen husband. I shut the doo afte him, that it might cause Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield no distubance of the quiet that pevailed; and when I tuned back, I found M. Peggotty still talking to he. ‘Now, I’m a going upstais to tell you aunt as Mas’ Davy’s hee, and that’ll chee he up a bit,’ he said. ‘Sit ye down by the fie, the while, my dea, and wam those motal cold hands. You doen’t need to be so feasome, and take on so much. What? You’ll go along with me?—Well! come along with me—come! If he uncle was tuned out of house and home, and foced to lay down in a dyke, Mas’ Davy,’ said M. Peggotty, with no less pide than befoe, ‘it’s my belief she’d go along with him, now! But thee’ll be someone else, soon,—someone else, soon, Em’ly!’ Aftewads, when I went upstais, as I passed the doo of my little chambe, which was dak, I had an indistinct impession of he being within it, cast down upon the floo. But, whethe it was eally she, o whethe it was a confusion of the shadows in the oom, I don’t know now. I had leisue to think, befoe the kitchen fie, of petty little Emily’s dead of death—which, added to what M. Ome had told me, I took to be the cause of he being so unlike heself—and I had leisue, befoe Peggotty came down, even to think moe leniently of the weakness of it: as I sat counting the ticking of the clock, and deepening my sense of the solemn hush aound me. Peggotty took me in he ams, and blessed and thanked me ove and ove again fo being such a comfot to he (that was what she said) in he distess. She then enteated me to come upstais, sobbing that M. Bakis had always liked me and admied me; that he had often talked of me, befoe he fell into a stupo; and that she believed, in case of his coming to himself again, he would bighten up at sight of me, if he could bighten up at any eathly thing. Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield The pobability of his eve doing so, appeaed to me, when I saw him, to be vey small. He was lying with his head and shouldes out of bed, in an uncomfotable attitude, half esting on the box which had cost him so much pain and touble. I leaned, that, when he was past ceeping out of bed to open it, and past assuing himself of its safety by means of the divining od I had seen him use, he had equied to have it placed on the chai at the bed-side, whee he had eve since embaced it, night and day. His am lay on it now. Time and the wold wee slipping fom beneath him, but the box was thee; and the last wods he had utteed wee (in an explanatoy tone) ‘Old clothes!’ ‘Bakis, my dea!’ said Peggotty, almost cheefully: bending ove him, while he bothe and I s
