Дэвид Копперфильд

I Become Neglected, and Am Provided for

           

           ‘Likehisimpudence,’saidPeggotty,‘butIdon’tmindthat!Davydear,whatshouldyouthinkifIwastothinkofbeingmarried?’

           ‘WhyIsupposeyouwouldlikemeasmuchthen,Peggotty,asyoudonow?’Ireturned,afteralittleconsideration.

           Greatlytotheastonishmentofthepassengersinthestreet,aswellasofherrelationsgoingonbefore,thegoodsoulwasobligedtostopandembracemeonthespot,withmanyprotestationsofherunalterablelove.

           ‘Tellmewhatshouldyousay,darling?’sheaskedagain,whenthiswasover,andwewerewalkingon.

           ‘IfyouwerethinkingofbeingmarriedtoMr.Barkis,Peggotty?’

           ‘Yes,’saidPeggotty.

           ‘Ishouldthinkitwouldbeaverygoodthing.Forthenyouknow,Peggotty,youwouldalwayshavethehorseandcarttobringyouovertoseeme,andcouldcomefornothing,andbesureofcoming.’

           ‘Thesenseofthedear!’criedPeggotty.‘WhatIhavebeenthinkingof,thismonthback!Yes,myprecious;andIthinkIshouldbemoreindependentaltogether,yousee;letalonemyworkingwithabetterheartinmyownhouse,thanIcouldinanybodyelse’snow.Idon’tknowwhatImightbefitfor,now,asaservanttoastranger.

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