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Updated: May 21, 2025
In his youth Jacob Dombey, jun., had been pampered and petted beyond measure, his every whim being carried out even at great expense; arrived at the age of twenty-one he became enamored of a young lady whose father kept a small toy-shop on Notre Dame street, and nothing would content him but a marriage with the "Goddess," as his innamorata was called.
'You are good enough to say so, Major, says Mr Dombey. 'Dombey, returns the Major, 'you know it. Let us have no false delicacy. You know it. Do you know it, or do you not, Dombey? says the Major, almost in a passion. 'Oh, really, Major 'Damme, Sir, retorts the Major, 'do you know that fact, or do you not? Dombey! Is old Joe your friend?
Florence Dombey showed no emotion over her gift, a string of red beads that had a curious resemblance to asparagus seed-pods, but she wore them gracefully and stared round-eyed at all the festivities. Lydia and Patience each wore pinned to her dress a cotton handkerchief, Lizzie's gift. John Levine appeared at noon, laden like a pack horse.
Hardly can it be matter for wonder, therefore, remarking how the printed pages would draw such tokens of sympathy from men like Cockburn, and Jeffrey, and Thackeray, and O'Connell, that a mixed audience showed traces of emotion when the profoundly sympathetic voice of Dickens himself related this story of the Life and Death of Little Dombey.
'Don't be afraid to speak to me, said Florence, with a quiet smile, 'I should be very glad if you would talk about my brother. 'Would you, though? retorted Mr Toots, with sympathy in every fibre of his otherwise expressionless face. 'Poor Dombey! 'Poor Dombey! I say! Miss Dombey! blubbered Toots. 'Yes, said Florence. 'There's a friend he took to very much at last.
It's better for my Uncle that I should be sent away; for Mr Dombey is a valuable friend to him, as he proved himself, you know when, Captain Cuttle; and I am persuaded he won't be less valuable when he hasn't me there, every day, to awaken his dislike. So hurrah for the West Indies, Captain Cuttle! How does that tune go that the sailors sing? 'For the Port of Barbados, Boys! Cheerily!
But for being a little out at elbows, I should have had it put to rights; but I believe the people come and make pic-nic parties there inside the iron railings. Mr Dombey is clear that this won't do.
How tight the tiny pressure of that one; and how loose and cold the other! Mrs Pipchin hovered behind the victim, with her sable plumage and her hooked beak, like a bird of ill-omen. She was out of breath for Mr Dombey, full of great thoughts, had walked fast and she croaked hoarsely as she waited for the opening of the door. 'Now, Paul, said Mr Dombey, exultingly.
Sweeping past the gold and silver demonstration on the sideboard as if it were heaped-up dirt, and deigning to bestow no look upon the elegancies around her, she took her place at his board for the first time, and sat, like a statue, at the feast. Mr Dombey, being a good deal in the statue way himself, was well enough pleased to see his handsome wife immovable and proud and cold.
A thorough contrast in all respects, to Mr Dombey, who was one of those close-shaved close-cut moneyed gentlemen who are glossy and crisp like new bank-notes, and who seem to be artificially braced and tightened as by the stimulating action of golden showerbaths. 'You have a son, I believe? said Mr Dombey. 'Four on 'em, Sir. Four hims and a her. All alive!
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