Дэвид Копперфильд

Some Old Scenes, and Some New People

           Fromthisemploymentshesuddenlydesisted,andsaidtoSteerforth,muchtomyconfusion:

           ‘Who’syourfriend?’

           ‘Mr.Copperfield,’saidSteerforth;‘hewantstoknowyou.’

           ‘Well,then,heshall!Ithoughthelookedasifhedid!’returnedMissMowcher,waddlinguptome,baginhand,andlaughingonmeasshecame.‘Facelikeapeach!’standingontiptoetopinchmycheekasIsat.‘Quitetempting!I’mveryfondofpeaches.Happytomakeyouracquaintance,Mr.Copperfield,I’msure.’

           IsaidthatIcongratulatedmyselfonhavingthehonourtomakehers,andthatthehappinesswasmutual.

           ‘Oh,mygoodness,howpoliteweare!’exclaimedMissMowcher,makingapreposterousattempttocoverherlargefacewithhermorselofahand.‘Whataworldofgammonandspinnageitis,though,ain’tit!’

           Thiswasaddressedconfidentiallytobothofus,asthemorselofahandcameawayfromtheface,andburieditself,armandall,inthebagagain.

           ‘Whatdoyoumean,MissMowcher?’saidSteerforth.

           ‘Ha!ha!ha!Whatarefreshingsetofhumbugsweare,tobesure,ain’twe,mysweetchild?’repliedthatmorselofawoman,feelinginthebagwithherheadononesideandhereyeintheair.‘Lookhere!’takingsomethingout.‘ScrapsoftheRussianPrince’snails.PrinceAlphabetturnedtopsy-turvy,Icallhim,forhisname’sgotallthelettersinit,higgledy-piggledy.

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