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I Fall into Captivity

           ‘Dearme!’

           Wewentintothehouse,whichwascheerfullylightedup,andintoahallwheretherewereallsortsofhats,caps,great-coats,plaids,gloves,whips,andwalking-sticks.‘WhereisMissDora?’saidMr.Spenlowtotheservant.‘Dora!’Ithought.‘Whatabeautifulname!’

           Weturnedintoaroomnearathand(Ithinkitwastheidenticalbreakfast-room,madememorablebythebrownEastIndiansherry),andIheardavoicesay,‘Mr.Copperfield,mydaughterDora,andmydaughterDora’sconfidentialfriend!’Itwas,nodoubt,Mr.Spenlow’svoice,butIdidn’tknowit,andIdidn’tcarewhoseitwas.Allwasoverinamoment.Ihadfulfilledmydestiny.Iwasacaptiveandaslave.IlovedDoraSpenlowtodistraction!

           Shewasmorethanhumantome.ShewasaFairy,aSylph,Idon’tknowwhatshewasanythingthatnooneeversaw,andeverythingthateverybodyeverwanted.Iwasswallowedupinanabyssofloveinaninstant.Therewasnopausingonthebrink;nolookingdown,orlookingback;Iwasgone,headlong,beforeIhadsensetosayawordtoher.

           ‘I,’observedawell-rememberedvoice,whenIhadbowedandmurmuredsomething,‘haveseenMr.Copperfieldbefore.’

           ThespeakerwasnotDora.No;theconfidentialfriend,MissMurdstone!

           Idon’tthinkIwasmuchastonished.Tothebestofmyjudgement,nocapacityofastonishmentwasleftinme.

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