'FagmentWelcome to consult... “to my aunt, Ms. Bakis, and she’ll set you down by he fie, fo the love of me, till uncle is gone out, and I can come.” By and by she tells me what I tell you, Mas’ Davy, and asks me to bing he. What can I do? She doen’t ought to know any such, but I can’t deny he, when the teas is on he face.’ He put his hand into the beast of his shaggy jacket, and took out with geat cae a petty little puse. ‘And if I could deny he when the teas was on he face, Mas’ Davy,’ said Ham, tendely adjusting it on the ough palm of his hand, ‘how could I deny he when she give me this to cay fo he—knowing what she bought it fo? Such a toy as it is!’ said Ham, thoughtfully looking on it. ‘With such a little money in it, Em’ly my dea.’ I shook him wamly by the hand when he had put it away again—fo that was moe satisfactoy to me than saying anything—and we walked up and down, fo a minute o two, in silence. The doo opened then, and Peggotty appeaed, beckoning to Ham to come in. I would have kept away, but she came afte me, enteating me to come in too. Even then, I would have avoided the oom whee they all wee, but fo its being the neat-tiled kitchen I have mentioned moe than once. The doo opening immediately into it, I found myself among them befoeconsideed whithe I was going. Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield The gil—the same I had seen upon the sands—was nea the fie. She was sitting on the gound, with he head and one am lying on a chai. I fancied, fom the disposition of he figue, that Em’ly had but newly isen fom the chai, and that the folon head might pehaps have been lying on he lap. I saw but little of the gil’s face, ove which he hai fell loose and scatteed, as if she had been disodeing it with he own hands; but I saw that she was young, and of a fai complexion. Peggotty had been cying. So had little Em’ly. Not a wod was spoken when we fist went in; and the Dutch clock by the desse seemed, in the silence, to tick twice as loud as usual. Em’ly spoke fist. ‘Matha wants,’ she said to Ham, ‘to go to London.’ ‘Why to London?’ etuned Ham. He stood between them, looking on the postate gil with a mixtue of compassion fo he, and of jealousy of he holding any companionship with he whom he loved so well, which I have always emembeed distinctly. They both spoke as if she wee ill; in a soft, suppessed tone that was plainly head, although it hadly ose above a whispe. ‘Bette thee than hee,’ said a thid voice aloud—Matha’s, though she did not move. ‘No one knows me thee. Eveybody knows me hee.’ ‘What will she do thee?’ inquied Ham. She lifted up he head, and looked dakly ound at him fo a moment; then laid it down again, and cuved he ight am about he neck, as a woman in a feve, o in an agony of pain fom a shot, might twist heself. ‘She will ty to do well,’ said little Em’ly. ‘You don’t know what she has said to us. Does he—do they—aunt?’ Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield Peggotty shook he head compassionately. ‘I’ll ty,’ said Matha, ‘if you’ll help me away. I neve can do wose than I have done hee. I may do bette. Oh!’
