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Martha

           Ihadsuchimplicitconfidenceinherdeclaration,thatIthenputittoMr.Peggotty,whetheritwouldnotseem,intheonset,likedistrustingher,tofollowheranyfarther.Hebeingofthesamemind,andequallyreliantonher,wesufferedhertotakeherownroad,andtookours,whichwastowardsHighgate.Heaccompaniedmeagoodpartoftheway;andwhenweparted,withaprayerforthesuccessofthisfresheffort,therewasanewandthoughtfulcompassioninhimthatIwasatnolosstointerpret.

           ItwasmidnightwhenIarrivedathome.Ihadreachedmyowngate,andwasstandinglisteningforthedeepbellofSt.Paul’s,thesoundofwhichIthoughthadbeenbornetowardsmeamongthemultitudeofstrikingclocks,whenIwasrathersurprisedtoseethatthedoorofmyaunt’scottagewasopen,andthatafaintlightintheentrywasshiningoutacrosstheroad.

           Thinkingthatmyauntmighthaverelapsedintooneofheroldalarms,andmightbewatchingtheprogressofsomeimaginaryconflagrationinthedistance,Iwenttospeaktoher.ItwaswithverygreatsurprisethatIsawamanstandinginherlittlegarden.

           Hehadaglassandbottleinhishand,andwasintheactofdrinking.Istoppedshort,amongthethickfoliageoutside,forthemoonwasupnow,thoughobscured;andIrecognizedthemanwhomIhadoncesupposedtobeadelusionofMr.Dick’s,andhadonceencounteredwithmyauntinthestreetsofthecity.

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Roboto Lora
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