United States or Singapore ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
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.
Not at all baffled by this discomfiture, which indeed had a stimulating effect, and put her on her mettle, she diminished nothing of her vigilance; and at last discovered, towards evening, that her sworn foe Mrs Pipchin, under pretence of having sat up all night, was dozing in her own room, and that Mr Dombey was lying on his sofa, unattended.
Mrs Pipchin herself is next handed in, and grimly takes her seat. There is a snaky gleam in her hard grey eye, as of anticipated rounds of buttered toast, relays of hot chops, worryings and quellings of young children, sharp snappings at poor Berry, and all the other delights of her Ogress's castle.
She's gone, and well got rid of. Nobody wants her back, I should think! This hint of the Peruvian Mines, causes Miss Tox to rise to go away; when Mrs Pipchin rings the bell for Towlinson to show her out, Mr Towlinson, not having seen Miss Tox for ages, grins, and hopes she's well; observing that he didn't know her at first, in that bonnet. 'Pretty well, Towlinson, I thank you, says Miss Tox.
Pipchin dozing in an easy chair, often changed to someone else and Paul was quite content to shut his eyes again and see what happened next, without emotion. But one figure with its head upon its hand returned so often and remained so long, and sat so still and solemn, never speaking, never being spoken to, and rarely lifting up its face, that Paul began to wonder languidly if it were real.
For example, there was an honest grocer and general dealer in the retail line of business, between whom and Mrs Pipchin there was a small memorandum book, with a greasy red cover, perpetually in question, and concerning which divers secret councils and conferences were continually being held between the parties to that register, on the mat in the passage, and with closed doors in the parlour.
Mrs Pipchin almost laughs as the fly-van drives off, and she composes her black bombazeen skirts, and settles herself among the cushions of her easy chair. The house is such a ruin that the rats have fled, and there is not one left. But Polly, though alone in the deserted mansion for there is no companionship in the shut-up rooms in which its late master hides his head is not alone long.
Paul and Florence went out in the meantime on the beach with Wickam who was constantly in tears and at about noon Mrs Pipchin presided over some Early Readings.
To many a single combat with Mrs Pipchin, did Miss Nipper gallantly devote herself, and if ever Mrs Pipchin in all her life had found her match, she had found it now. Miss Nipper threw away the scabbard the first morning she arose in Mrs Pipchin's house. She asked and gave no quarter.
This isn't my house. 'No. It's mine, retorted Mrs Pipchin. 'It's a very nasty one, said Paul. 'There's a worse place in it than this though, said Mrs Pipchin, 'where we shut up our bad boys. 'Has he ever been in it? asked Paul: pointing out Master Bitherstone.
Word Of The Day