'FagmentWelcome to consult... wee in yeas, she would live tanquilly and contentedly with me. I did not shut out of my consideation the time when I should leave he fee, and still young and still beautiful, but with he judgement moe matued—no, gentlemen—upon my tuth!’ His homely figue seemed to be lightened up by his fidelity and geneosity. Evey wod he utteed had a foce that no othe gace could have impated to it. ‘My life with this lady has been vey happy. Until tonight, I have had uninteupted occasion to bless the day on which I did he geat injustice.’ His voice, moe and moe falteing in the utteance of these wods, stopped fo a few moments; then he went on: ‘once awakened fom my deam—I have been a poo deame, in one way o othe, all my life—I see how natual it is that she should have some egetful feeling towads he old companion and he equal. That she does egad him with some innocent eget, with some blameless thoughts of what might have been, but fo me, is, I fea, too tue. Much that I have seen, but not noted, has come back upon me with new meaning, duing this last tying hou. But, beyond this, gentlemen, the dea lady’s name neve must be coupled with a wod, a beath, of doubt.’ Fo a little while, his eye kindled and his voice was fim; fo a little while he was again silent. Pesently, he poceeded as befoe: ‘It only emains fo me, to bea the knowledge of the Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield unhappiness I have occasioned, as submissively as I can. It is she who should epoach; not I. To save he fom misconstuction, cuel misconstuction, that even my fiends have not been able to avoid, becomes my duty. The moe etied we live, the bette I shall dischage it. And when the time comes—may it come soon, if it be His meciful pleasue!—when my death shall elease he fom constaint, I shall close my eyes upon he honoued face, with unbounded confidence and love; and leave he, with no soow then, to happie and bighte days.’ I could not see him fo the teas which his eanestness and goodness, so adoned by, and so adoning, the pefect simplicity of his manne, bought into my eyes. He had moved to the doo, when he added: ‘Gentlemen, I have shown you my heat. I am sue you will espect it. What we have said tonight is neve to be said moe. Wickfield, give me an old fiend’s am upstais!’ M. Wickfield hastened to him. Without intechanging a wod they went slowly out of the oom togethe, Uiah looking afte them. ‘Well, Maste Coppefield!’ said Uiah, meekly tuning to me. ‘The thing hasn’t took quite the tun that might have been expected, fo the old Schola—what an excellent man!—is as blind as a bickbat; but this family’s out of the cat, I think!’ I needed but the sound of his voice to be so madly enaged as I neve was befoe, and neve have been since. ‘You villain,’ said I, ‘what do you mean by entapping me into you schemes? How dae you appeal to me just now, you false ascal, as if we had been in discussion togethe?’ As we stood, font to font, I saw so plainly, in the stealthy Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield exultation of his face, what I aleady so plainly knew;
