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Updated: June 12, 2025
Madden, "how should I tell, my precious pet? You talk just like a poetry-book, and how can I answer you unless I was another poetry-book? Come and have your breakfast, do, that's a dear sweet love, and try a new-laid egg. New-laid eggs is good for the spirits, my poppet." Laura Dunbar seated herself in the comfortable arm-chair between the fireplace and the little breakfast-table.
Now it was the alderman for misusing him, overtasking the poor child, and deferring the marriage, now it was that little pert poppet, Dennet, who had flouted him, now it was the bad company he had been led into the poor babe who had been bred to godly ways.
At least Laura took it as a gibe, and scowled darkly; for she could never grow hardened to ridicule. "Yes, what is it?" asked Evelyn, but without obeying the summons; for she felt Laura's grip of her arm tighten. "It's a secret. You must come over here." "Hold on a minute, Poppet," said Evelyn persuasively, and crossed the lawn with her characteristically lazy saunter.
It ain't because I don't love you. Just as well and more, my pretty poppet. It's because I thought it better for you. And for someone else besides. Davy, my darling, are you listening? Can you hear? 'Ye-ye-ye-yes, Peggotty! I sobbed. 'My own! said Peggotty, with infinite compassion. 'What I want to say, is. That you must never forget me. For I'll never forget you.
Soh! now Poppet!" Stephen caught the bridle, and Ambrose helped the burgess into the saddle. "Now, good boys," he said, "each of you lay a hand on my pommel. We can make good speed ere the rascals find out our scant numbers." "You would make better speed without us, sir," said Stephen, hankering to remain beside poor Spring.
This face looked on her she thought with bitterest loathing and scorn, and she felt relieved when at the midday halt its owner was ordered to fall out from the rest, and was with four others re-chained for the homeward journey. Frere, struck with the appearance of the five, said, "By Jove, Poppet, there are our old friends Rex and Dawes, and the others.
"Oh, dear, no; not at all," returned Meekin, feeling that this charming young lady was regarded as a creature who was not to be judged by ordinary rules. "We got on famously, my dear Major." "That's right," said Vickers. "She is very plain-spoken, is my little girl, and strangers can't understand her sometimes. Can they, Poppet?" Poppet tossed her head saucily. "I don't know," she said.
They came in sight of the Thames at Lambeth, but Master Headley, remembering how ill his beloved Poppet had brooked the ferry, decided to keep to the south of the river by a causeway across Lambeth marsh, which was just passable in high and dry summers, and which conducted them to a raised road called Bankside, where they looked across to the towers of Westminster, and the Abbey in its beauty dawned on the imagination of Stephen and Ambrose.
And, oh, Adam, they may be here any moment." "Not so, my poppet. To get a linchpin, they must find a smith. All the smiths within a radius of thirty miles are drunk. Yes, me again. A man has to think of all these little things. I say, we're giving the walls the time of their life, aren't we? Have another cigarette?" "After which I must go to bed."
He divests himself of his shoes, loosens his cravat, and lies across the foot of the squalid bed, with his head resting on his left hand. 'Now you begin to look like yourself, says the woman approvingly. 'Now I begin to know my old customer indeed! Been trying to mix for yourself this long time, poppet? 'I have been taking it now and then in my own way. 'Never take it your own way.
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