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Updated: May 21, 2025
Thus assisted, she skipped down with much agility, and began to tie her double chin into her bonnet. 'The fee, said Steerforth, 'is 'Five bob, replied Miss Mowcher, 'and dirt cheap, my chicken. Ain't I volatile, Mr. Copperfield?
Miss Mowcher untied her bonnet, at this passage of her discourse, threw back the strings, and sat down, panting, on a footstool in front of the fire making a kind of arbour of the dining table, which spread its mahogany shelter above her head.
'Not the ghost of one, replied Miss Mowcher. 'We could show her the substance of one, I think? said Steerforth, addressing his eyes to mine. 'Eh, Daisy? 'Yes, indeed, said I. 'Aha? cried the little creature, glancing sharply at my face, and then peeping round at Steerforth's. 'Umph?
Copperfield? she cried, after a pause, and still keeping the same look-out. 'Aye, aye? 'No, said Steerforth, before I could reply. 'Nothing of the sort. On the contrary, Mr. Copperfield used or I am much mistaken to have a great admiration for her. 'Why, hasn't he now? returned Miss Mowcher. 'Is he fickle? Oh, for shame!
'He pays well, I hope? said Steerforth. 'Pays, as he speaks, my dear child through the nose, replied Miss Mowcher. 'None of your close shavers the Prince ain't. You'd say so, if you saw his moustachios. Red by nature, black by art. 'By your art, of course, said Steerforth. Miss Mowcher winked assent. 'Forced to send for me. Couldn't help it.
Quite alarmed at being the only recipient of this untimely visit, and the only spectator of this portentous behaviour, I exclaimed again, 'Pray tell me, Miss Mowcher, what is the matter! are you ill? 'My dear young soul, returned Miss Mowcher, squeezing her hands upon her heart one over the other. 'I am ill here, I am very ill.
He had eluded pursuit, and was going to America in a flaxen wig, and whiskers, and such a complete disguise as never you see in all your born days; when the little woman, being in Southampton, met him walking along the street picked him out with her sharp eye in a moment ran betwixt his legs to upset him and held on to him like grim Death. 'Excellent Miss Mowcher! cried I.
From this employment she suddenly desisted, and said to Steerforth, much to my confusion: 'Who's your friend? 'Mr. Copperfield, said Steerforth; 'he wants to know you. 'Well, then, he shall! I thought he looked as if he did! returned Miss Mowcher, waddling up to me, bag in hand, and laughing on me as she came. 'Face like a peach! standing on tiptoe to pinch my cheek as I sat. 'Quite tempting!
'Well then, cried Miss Mowcher, I'll consent to live. Now, ducky, ducky, ducky, come to Mrs. Bond and be killed. This was an invocation to Steerforth to place himself under her hands; who, accordingly, sat himself down, with his back to the table, and his laughing face towards me, and submitted his head to her inspection, evidently for no other purpose than our entertainment.
'What does he do, but, lo and behold you, he goes into a perfumer's shop, and wants to buy a bottle of the Madagascar Liquid. 'Charley does? said Steerforth. 'Charley does. But they haven't got any of the Madagascar Liquid. 'What is it? Something to drink? asked Steerforth. 'To drink? returned Miss Mowcher, stopping to slap his cheek. 'To doctor his own moustachios with, you know.
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