likes　to　look　so　well；　and　is　proud　of　being　so　pretty。
  That　is　among　my　very　earliest　impressions。　That；　and　a　sense
  that　we　were　both　a　little　afraid　of　Peggotty；　and　submitted
  ourselves　in　most　things　to　her　direction；　were　among　the　first
  opinions—if　they　may　be　so　called—that　I　ever　derived　from　what
  I　saw。
  Peggotty　and　I　were　sitting　one　night　by　the　parlour　fire；　alone。
  I　had　been　reading　to　Peggotty　about　crocodiles。　I　must　have　read
  very　perspicuously；　or　the　poor　soul　must　have　been　deeply
  interested；　for　I　remember　she　had　a　cloudy　impression；　after　I
  had　done；　that　they　were　a　sort　of　vegetable。　I　was　tired　of　reading；
  and　dead　sleepy；　but　having　leave；　as　a　high　treat；　to　sit　up　until
  my　mother　came　home　from　spending　the　evening　at　a
  neighbour’s；　I　would　rather　have　died　upon　my　post　（of　course）
  than　have　gone　to　bed。　I　had　reached　that　stage　of　sleepiness　when
  Peggotty　seemed　to　swell　and　grow　immensely　large。　I　propped
  my　eyelids　open　with　my　two　forefingers；　and　looked
  perseveringly　at　her　as　she　sat　at　work；　at　the　little　bit　of　wax…
  candle　she　kept　for　her　thread—how　old　it　looked；　being　so
  wrinkled　in　all　directions！—at　the　little　house　with　a　thatched　roof；
  where　the　yard…measure　lived；　at　her　work…box　with　a　sliding　lid；
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  David　Copperfield
  with　a　view　of　St。　Paul’s　Cathedral　（with　a　pink　dome）　painted　on
  the　top；　at　the　brass　thimble　on　her　finger；　at　herself；　whom　I
  thought　lovely。　I　felt　so　sleepy；　that　I　knew　if　I　lost　sight　of
  anything　for　a　moment；　I　was　gone。
  ‘Peggotty；’　says　I；　suddenly；　‘were　you　ever　married？’
  ‘Lord；　Master　Davy；’　replied　Peggotty。　‘What’s　put　marriage　in
  your　head？’
  She　answered　with　such　a　start；　that　it　quite　awoke　me。　And
  then　she　stopped　in　her　work；　and　looked　at　me；　with　her　needle
  drawn　out　to　its　thread’s　length。
  ‘But　were　you　ever　married；　Peggotty？’　says　I。　‘You　are　a　very
  handsome　woman；　an’t　you？’
  I　thought　her　in　a　different　style　from　my　mother；　certainly；　but
  of　another　school　of　beauty；　I　considered　her　a　perfect　example。
  There　was　a　red　velvet　footstool　in　the　best　parlour；　on　which　my
  mother　had　painted　a　nosegay。　The　ground…work　of　that　stool；　and
  Peggotty’s　complexion　appeared　to　me　to　be　one　and　the　same
  thing。　The　stool　was　smooth；　and　Peggotty　was　rough；　but　that
  made　no　difference。
  ‘Me　handsome；　Davy！’　said　Peggotty。　‘Lawk；　no；　my　dear！　But
  what　put　marriage　in　your　head？’
  ‘I　don’t　know！—You　mustn’t　marry　more　than　one　person　at　a
  time；　may　you；　Peggotty？’
  ‘Certainly　not；’　says　Peggotty；　with　the　promptest　decision。
  ‘But　if　you　marry　a　person；　and　the　person　dies；　why　then　you
  may　marry　another　person；　mayn’t　you；　Peggotty？’
  ‘You　may；’　says　Peggotty；　‘if　you　choose；　my　dear。　That’s　a
  matter　of　opinion。’
  ‘But　what　is　your　opinion；　Peggotty？’　said　I。
  Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics
  David　Copperfield
  I　asked　her；　and　looked　curiously　at　her；　because　she　looked　so
  curiously　at　me。
  ‘My　opinion　is；’　said　Peggotty；　taking　her　eyes　from　me；　after　a
  little　indecision　and　going　on　with　her　work；　‘that　I　never　was
  married　myself；　Master　Davy；　and　that　I　don’t　expect　to　be。　That’s
  all　I　know　about　the　subject。’
  ‘You　an’t　cross；　I　suppose；　Peggotty；　are　you？’　said　I；　after
  sitting　quiet　for　a　minute。
  I　really　thought　she　was；　she　had　been　so　short　with　me；　but　I
  was　quite　mistaken：　for　she　laid　aside　her　work　（which　was　a
  stocking　of　her　own）；　and　opening　her　arms　wide；　took　my　curly
  head　within　them；　and　gave　it　a　good　squeeze。　I　know　it　was　a
  good　squeeze；　because；　being　very　plump；　whenever　she　made　any
  little　exertion　after　she　was　dressed；　some　of　the　buttons　on　the
  back　of　her　gown　flew　off。　And　I　recollect　two　bursting　to　the
  opposite　side　of　the　parlour；　while　she　was　hugging　me。
  ‘Now　let　me　hear　some　more　about　the　Crorkindills；’　said
  Peggotty；　who　was　not　quite　right　in　the　name　yet；　‘for　I　an’t　heard
  half　enough。’
  I　couldn’t　quite　understand　why　Peggotty　looked　so　queer；　or
  why　she　was　so　ready　to　go　back　to　the　crocodiles。　However；　we
  returned　to　those　monsters；　with　fresh　wakefulness　on　my　part；
  and　we　left　their　eggs　in　the　sand　for　the　sun　to　hatch；　and　we　ran
  away　from　them；　and　baffled　them　by　constantly　turning；　which
  they　were　unable　to　do　quickly；　on　account　of　their　unwieldy
  make；　and　we　went　into　the　water　after　them；　as　natives；　and　put
  sharp　pieces　of　timber　down　their　throats；　and　in　short　we　ran　the
  whole　crocodile　gauntlet。　I　did；　at　least；　but　I　had　my　doubts　of
  Peggotty；　who　was　thoughtfully　sticking　her　needle　into　various
  Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics
  David　Copperfield
  parts　of　her　face　and　arms；　all　the　time。
  We　had　exhausted　the　crocodiles；　and　begun　with　the　alligators；
  when　the　garden…bell　rang。　We　went　out　to　the　door；　and　there
  was　my　mother；　looking　unusually　pretty；　I　thought；　and　with　her
  a　gentleman　with　beautiful　black　hair　and　whiskers；　who　had
  walked　home　with　us　from　church　last　Sunday。
  As　my　mother　stooped　down　on　the　threshold　to　take　me　in　her
  arms　and　kiss　me；　the　gentleman　said　I　was　a　more　highly
  privileged　little　fellow　than　a　monarch—or　something　like　that；　for
  my　later　understanding　comes；　I　am　sensible；　to　my　aid　here。
  ‘What　does　that　mean？’　I　asked　him；　over　her　shoulder。
  He　patted　me　on　the　head；　but　somehow；　I　didn’t　like　him　or　his
  deep　voice；　and　I　was　jealous　that　his　hand　should　touch　my
  mother’s　in　touching　me—which　it　did。　I　put　it　away；　as　well　as　I
  could。
  ‘Oh；　Davy！’　remonstrated　my　mother。
  ‘Dear　boy！’　said　the　gentleman。　‘I　cannot　wonder　at　his
  devotion！’
  I　never　saw　such　a　beautiful　colour　on　my　mother’s　face　before。
  She　gently　chid　me　for　being　rude；　and；　keeping　me　close　to　her
  shawl；　turned　to　thank　the　gentleman　for　taking　so　much　trouble
  as　to　bring　her　home。　She　put　out　her　hand　to　him　as　she　spoke；
  and；　as　he　met　it　with　his　own；　she　glanced；　I　thought；　at　me。
  ‘Let　us　say　“good　night”；　my　fine　boy；’　said　the　gentleman；
  when　he　had　bent　his　head—I　saw　him！—over　my　mother’s　little
  glove。
  ‘Good　night！’　said　I。
  ‘Come！　Let　us　be　the　best　friends　in　the　world！’　said　the
  gentleman；　laughing。　‘Shake　hands！’
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  David　Copperfield
  My　right　hand　was　in　my　mother’s　left；　so　I　gave　him　the　other。
  ‘Why；　that’s　the　wrong　hand；　Davy！’　laughed　the　gentleman。
  My　mother　drew　my　right　hand　forward；　but　I　was　resolved；　for
  my　former　reason；　not　to　give　it　him；　and　I　did　not。　I　gave　him　the
  other；　and　he　shook　it　heartily；　and　said　I　was　a　brave　fellow；　and
  went　away。
  At　this　minute　I　see　him　turn　round　in　the　garden；　and　give　us　a
  last　look　with　his　ill…omened　black　eyes；　before　the　door　was　shut。
  Peggotty；　who　had　not　said　a　word　or　moved　a　finger；　secured
  the　fastenings　instantly；　and　we　all　went　into　the　parlour。　My
  mother；　contrary　to　her　usual　habit；　instead　of　coming　to　the
  elbow…chair　by　the　fire；　remained　at　the　other　end　of　the　room；　and
  sat　singing　to　herself。
  —‘Hope　you　have　had　a　pleasant　evening；　ma’am；’　said
  Peggotty；　standing　as　stiff　as　a　barrel　in　the　centre　of　the　room；
  with　a　candlestick　in　her　hand。
  ‘Much　obliged　to　you；　Peggotty；’　returned　my　mother；　in　a
  cheerful　voice；　‘I　have　had　a　very　pleasant　evening。’
  ‘A　stranger　or　so　makes　an　agreeable　change；’　suggested
  Peggotty。
  ‘A　very　agreeable　change；　indeed；’　returned　my　mother。
  Peggotty　continuing　to　stand　motionless　in　the　middle　of　the
  room；　and　my　mother　resuming　her　singing；　I　fell　asleep；　though　I
  was　not　so　sound　asleep　but　that　I　could　hear　voices；　without
  hearing　what　they　said。　When　I　half　awoke　from　this
  uncomfortable　doze；　I　found　Peggotty　and　my　mother　both　in
  tears；　and　both　talking。　‘Not　such　a　one　as　this；　Mr。　Copperfield
  wouldn’t　have　liked；’　said　Peggotty。　‘That　I　say；　and　that　I　swear！’
  ‘Good　Heavens！’　cried　my　mother；　‘you’ll　drive　me　mad！　Was
  Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics
  David　Copperfield
  ever　any　poor　girl　so　ill…used　by　her　servants　as　I　am！　Why　do　I　do
  myself　the　injustice　of　calling　myself　a　girl？　Have　I　never　been
  married；　Peggotty？’
  ‘God　knows　you　have；　ma’am；’　returned　Peggotty。　‘Then；　how
  can　you　dare；’　said　my　mother—‘you　know　I　don’t　mean　how　can
  you　dare；　Peggotty；　but　how　can　you　have　the　heart—to　make　me
  so　uncomfortable　and　say　such　bitter　things　to　me；　when　you　are
  well　aware　that　I　haven’t；　out　of　this　place；　a　single　friend　to　turn
  to？’
  ‘The　more’s　the　reason；’　returned　Peggotty；　‘for　saying　that　it
  won’t　do。　No！　That　it　won’t　do。　No！　No　price　could　make　it　do。
  No！’—I　thought　Peggotty　would　have　thrown　the　candlestick
  away；　she　was　so　emphatic　with　it。
  ‘How　can　you　be　so　aggravating；’　said　my　mother；　shedding
  more　tears　than　before；　‘as　to　talk　in　such　an　unjust　manner！　How
  can　you　go　on　as　if　it　was　all　settled　and　arranged；　Peggotty；　when
  I　tell　you　over　and　over　again；　you