'FagmentWelcome to consult...his chubby face and the othe on the othe, and made a geat deal Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield of him. They would have talked to me too, but I held back, and moped in my cone; scaed by thei love-making and hilaity, though it was fa fom boisteous, and almost wondeing that no judgement came upon them fo thei hadness of heat. So, when they stopped to bait the hose, and ate and dank and enjoyed themselves, I could touch nothing that they touched, but kept my fast unboken. So, when we eached home, I dopped out of the chaise behind, as quickly as possible, that I might not be in thei company befoe those solemn windows, looking blindly on me like closed eyes once bight. And oh, how little need I had had to think what would move me to teas when I came back—seeing the window of my mothe’s oom, and next it that which, in the bette time, was mine! I was in Peggotty’s ams befoe I got to the doo, and she took me into the house. He gief bust out when she fist saw me; but she contolled it soon, and spoke in whispes, and walked softly, as if the dead could be distubed. She had not been in bed, I found, fo a long time. She sat up at night still, and watched. As long as he poo dea petty was above the gound, she said, she would neve deset he. M. Mudstone took no heed of me when I went into the palou whee he was, but sat by the fieside, weeping silently, and pondeing in his elbow-chai. Miss Mudstone, who was busy at he witing-desk, which was coveed with lettes and papes, gave me he cold finge-nails, and asked me, in an ion whispe, if I had been measued fo my mouning. I said: ‘Yes.’ ‘And you shits,’ said Miss Mudstone; ‘have you bought ’em home?’ Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield ‘Yes, ma’am. I have bought home all my clothes.’ This was all the consolation that he fimness administeed to me. I do not doubt that she had a choice pleasue in exhibiting what she called he self-command, and he fimness, and he stength of mind, and he common sense, and the whole diabolical catalogue of he unamiable qualities, on such an occasion. She was paticulaly poud of he tun fo business; and she showed it now in educing eveything to pen and ink, and being moved by nothing. All the est of that day, and fom moning to night aftewads, she sat at that desk, scatching composedly with a had pen, speaking in the same impetubable whispe to eveybody; neve elaxing a muscle of he face, o softening a tone of he voice, o appeaing with an atom of he dess astay. He bothe took a book sometimes, but neve ead it that I saw. He would open it and look at it as if he wee eading, but would emain fo a whole hou without tuning the leaf, and then put it down and walk to and fo in the oom. I used to sit with folded hands watching him, and counting his footsteps, hou afte hou. He vey seldom spoke to he, and neve to me. He seemed to be the only estless thing, except the clocks, in the whole motionless house. In these days befoe the funeal, I saw but little of Peggotty, except that, in passing up o down stais, I always found he cl
