There is something bulky in Peggotty''s pocket. It is nothing smaller than the Crocodile Book, whibsp;is in rather a dilapidated dition by this time, with divers of the leaves torn and stitched across, but whibsp;Peggotty exhibits to the children as a precious relibsp;I find it very curious to e my own infant fabsp;looking up at me from the Crocodile stories; and to be reminded by it of my old acquaintance Brooks of Sheffield.
Among my boys, this summer holiday time, I e an old man making giant kites, and gazing at them in the air, with a delight for whibsp;there are no words. He greets me rapturously, and whispers, with many nods and winks, ''Trotwood, you will be glad to hear that I shall finish the Memorial when I have nothing el to do, and that your aunt''s the most extraordinary woman in the world, sir!''
Who is this bent lady, supp herlf by a stibsp;and showing me a tenanbsp;in whibsp;there are some trabsp;of old pride and beauty, feebly tending with a querulous, imbecile, fretful wandering of the mind? She is in a garden; and near her stands a sharp, dark, withered woman, with a white sbsp;on her lip. Let me hear what they say.
There is something bulky in Peggotty''s pocket. It is nothing smaller than the Crocodile Book, whibsp;is in rather a dilapidated dition by this time, with divers of the leaves torn and stitched across, but whibsp;Peggotty exhibits to the children as a precious relibsp;I find it very curious to e my own infant fabsp;looking up at me from the Crocodile stories; and to be reminded by it of my old acquaintance Brooks of Sheffield.
Among my boys, this summer holiday time, I e an old man making giant kites, and gazing at them in the air, with a delight for whibsp;there are no words. He greets me rapturously, and whispers, with many nods and winks, ''Trotwood, you will be glad to hear that I shall finish the Memorial when I have nothing el to do, and that your aunt''s the most extraordinary woman in the world, sir!''
Who is this bent lady, supp herlf by a stibsp;and showing me a tenanbsp;in whibsp;there are some trabsp;of old pride and beauty, feebly tending with a querulous, imbecile, fretful wandering of the mind? She is in a garden; and near her stands a sharp, dark, withered woman, with a white sbsp;on her lip. Let me hear what they say.
''Rosa, I have fotten this gentleman''s name.''
Rosa bends over her, and calls to her, ''Mr. Copperfield.''
''I am glad to e you, sir. I am sorry to obrve you are in m. I hope Time will be good to you.''
Her impatient attendant scolds her, tells her I am not in m, bids her look again, tries to rou her.