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    over me while I wrote the letter When I had finished it he asked

    now, trembling in the strength of what he felt for the pretty little

    close to the fire, and her feet pushing the mustard off the dumbwaiter at the other end of the room, was Mrs Micawber, to whom

    and that can never fail under this roof, that’s been our shelter for

    So much compunction for having ever wronged him, even by a

    lay here, blessed him not once, but a thousand times”’

    good right to ask leave to lend it you, as my sweet girl’s own old

    ‘Now, David,’ he said—and I saw that cast again as he said it—

    a specific purpose I cannot say It is my intention, my dear

    who makes no reply

    hurriedly, but timidly I thought

    Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics


    the wine that Mr Wickfield took, the reason why he took it, and

    suspect him of anything wrong, he was so thoroughly respectable

    needle, ‘and give my compliments to Mr Dick, and I’ll be glad to

    five, now, that you wouldn’t have seen me here, wouldn’t you?

    on that stimulant, having little room in his system for any other

    reason to believe would have sufficed for fifteen people This

    buzz and hum go up around me, as if the boys were so many

    disagreeable fact, that we were chiefly employed by solicitors; but

    ‘I think he does himself no good by the habit that has increased

    at Murdstone and Grinby’s

    like his father as it’s possible to be, if he was not so like his mother,

    daughter Minnie’s little girl, you’d never forget it Bless my heart


    Copyright over me while I wrote the letter When I had finished it he asked