Dicken's works . nces, and theconsciousness of your own virtues, and the honor-able position to which they have raised you in theeyes of everything that wears the human shape, willnot sustain you, marry that good man, and be happyin his condescension. If this will not do either,die! There are doorways and dust-heaps for suchdeaths, and such despair — find one, and take yourflight to Heaven! I heard a distant foot upon the stairs. I knew it,I was certain. It was his, thank God! She moved slowly from before the door when shesaid this, and passed out of my sight. But mark ! she added, slowly and
Dicken's works . nces, and theconsciousness of your own virtues, and the honor-able position to which they have raised you in theeyes of everything that wears the human shape, willnot sustain you, marry that good man, and be happyin his condescension. If this will not do either,die! There are doorways and dust-heaps for suchdeaths, and such despair — find one, and take yourflight to Heaven! I heard a distant foot upon the stairs. I knew it,I was certain. It was his, thank God! She moved slowly from before the door when shesaid this, and passed out of my sight. But mark ! she added, slowly and sternly,opening the other door to go away, I am resolved,for reasons that I have and hatreds that I entertain,to cast you out, unless you withdraw from my reachaltogether, or drop your pretty mask. This is whatI had to say, and what I say, I mean to do! The foot upon the stairs came nearer — nearer —passed her as she went down — rushed into theroom ! Uncle ! A fearful cry followed the word. I paused a mo-. DAVID COPPERFIELD. 211 ment, and, looking in, saw him supporting herinsensible figure in his arms. He gazed for a fewseconds in the face; then stooped to kiss it — oh,how tenderly ! — and drew a handkerchief be-fore it. Masr Davy, he said, in a low, tremulous voice,when it was covered, I thank my Heavnly Fatheras my dreams come true ! I thank Him heartyfor having guided of me, in His own ways, to mydarling ! With those words he took her up in his arms ;and, with the veiled face lying on his bosom, andaddressed towards his own, carried her, motionlessand unconscious, down the stairs. CHAPTER XII. THE BEGINNING OF A LONGER JOURNEY. It was yet early in the morning of the followingday, when, as I was walking in my garden with myaunt (who took little other exercise now, being somuch in attendance on my dear Dora), I was toldthat Mr. Peggotty desired to speak with me. Hecame into the garden to meet me half-way, on mygoing towards the gate; and bared his head, as it wasa
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