‘Much！’　said　Steerforth。　‘Much　more　than　for　any　other。　Here　is
  Daisy；　too；　loves　music　from　his　soul。　Sing　us　an　Irish　song；　Rosa！
  and　let　me　sit　and　listen　as　I　used　to　do。’
  He　did　not　touch　her；　or　the　chair　from　which　she　had　risen；　but
  sat　himself　near　the　harp。　She　stood　beside　it　for　some　little　while；
  in　a　curious　way；　going　through　the　motion　of　playing　it　with　her
  right　hand；　but　not　sounding　it。　At　length　she　sat　down；　and　drew
  it　to　her　with　one　sudden　action；　and　played　and　sang。
  I　don’t　know　what　it　was；　in　her　touch　or　voice；　that　made　that
  song　the　most　unearthly　I　have　ever　heard　in　my　life；　or　can
  imagine。　There　was　something　fearful　in　the　reality　of　it。　It　was　as
  if　it　had　never　been　written；　or　set　to　music；　but　sprung　out　of
  passion　within　her；　which　found　imperfect　utterance　in　the　low
  sounds　of　her　voice；　and　crouched　again　when　all　was　still。　I　was
  dumb　when　she　leaned　beside　the　harp　again；　playing　it；　but　not
  sounding　it；　with　her　right　hand。
  Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics
  David　Copperfield
  A　minute　more；　and　this　had　roused　me　from　my　trance：—
  Steerforth　had　left　his　seat；　and　gone　to　her；　and　had　put　his　arm
  laughingly　about　her；　and　had　said；　‘Come；　Rosa；　for　the　future　we
  will　love　each　other　very　much！’　And　she　had　struck　him；　and　had
  thrown　him　off　with　the　fury　of　a　wild　cat；　and　had　burst　out　of　the
  room。
  ‘What　is　the　matter　with　Rosa？’　said　Mrs。　Steerforth；　coming　in。
  ‘She　has　been　an　angel；　mother；’　returned　Steerforth；　‘for　a
  little　while；　and　has　run　into　the　opposite　extreme；　since；　by　way　of
  compensation。’
  ‘You　should　be　careful　not　to　irritate　her；　James。　Her　temper
  has　been　soured；　remember；　and　ought　not　to　be　tried。’
  Rosa　did　not　come　back；　and　no　other　mention　was　made　of
  her；　until　I　went　with　Steerforth　into　his　room　to　say　Good　night。
  Then　he　laughed　about　her；　and　asked　me　if　I　had　ever　seen　such　a
  fierce　little　piece　of　incomprehensibility。
  I　expressed　as　much　of　my　astonishment　as　was　then　capable　of
  expression；　and　asked　if　he　could　guess　what　it　was　that　she　had
  taken　so　much　amiss；　so　suddenly。
  ‘Oh；　Heaven　knows；’　said　Steerforth。　‘Anything　you　like—or
  nothing！　I　told　you　she　took　everything；　herself　included；　to　a
  grindstone；　and　sharpened　it。　She　is　an　edge…tool；　and　requires
  great　care　in　dealing　with。　She　is　always　dangerous。　Good　night！’
  ‘Good　night！’　said　I；　‘my　dear　Steerforth！　I　shall　be　gone　before
  you　wake　in　the　morning。　Good　night！’
  He　was　unwilling　to　let　me　go；　and　stood；　holding　me　out；　with　a
  hand　on　each　of　my　shoulders；　as　he　had　done　in　my　own　room。
  ‘Daisy；’　he　said；　with　a　smile—‘for　though　that’s　not　the　name
  your　godfathers　and　godmothers　gave　you；　it’s　the　name　I　like　best
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  David　Copperfield
  to　call　you　by—and　I　wish；　I　wish；　I　wish；　you　could　give　it　to　me！’
  ‘Why　so　I　can；　if　I　choose；’　said　I。
  ‘Daisy；　if　anything　should　ever　separate　us；　you　must　think　of
  me　at　my　best；　old　boy。　Come！　Let　us　make　that　bargain。　Think　of
  me　at　my　best；　if　circumstances　should　ever　part　us！’
  ‘You　have　no　best　to　me；　Steerforth；’　said　I；　‘and　no　worst。　You
  are　always　equally　loved；　and　cherished　in　my　heart。’
  So　much　compunction　for　having　ever　wronged　him；　even　by　a
  shapeless　thought；　did　I　feel　within　me；　that　the　confession　of
  having　done　so　was　rising　to　my　lips。　But　for　the　reluctance　I　had
  to　betray　the　confidence　of　Agnes；　but　for　my　uncertainty　how　to
  approach　the　subject　with　no　risk　of　doing　so；　it　would　have
  reached　them　before　he　said；　‘God　bless　you；　Daisy；　and　good
  night！’　In　my　doubt；　it　did　not　reach　them；　and　we　shook　hands；
  and　we　parted。
  I　was　up　with　the　dull　dawn；　and；　having　dressed　as　quietly　as　I
  could；　looked　into　his　room。　He　was　fast　asleep；　lying；　easily；　with
  his　head　upon　his　arm；　as　I　had　often　seen　him　lie　at　school。
  The　time　came　in　its　season；　and　that　was　very　soon；　when　I
  almost　wondered　that　nothing　troubled　his　repose；　as　I　looked　at
  him。　But　he　slept—let　me　think　of　him　so　again—as　I　had　often
  seen　him　sleep　at　school；　and　thus；　in　this　silent　hour；　I　left　him。
  —Never　more；　oh　God　forgive　you；　Steerforth！　to　touch　that
  passive　hand　in　love　and　friendship。　Never；　never　more！
  Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics
  David　Copperfield
  Chapter　30
  A　LOSS
  Igot　down　to　Yarmouth　in　the　evening；　and　went　to　the　inn。　I
  knew　that　Peggotty’s　spare　room—my　room—was　likely　to
  have　occupation　enough　in　a　little　while；　if　that　great　Visitor；
  before　whose　presence　all　the　living　must　give　place；　were　not
  already　in　the　house；　so　I　betook　myself　to　the　inn；　and　dined
  there；　and　engaged　my　bed。
  It　was　ten　o’clock　when　I　went　out。　Many　of　the　shops　were
  shut；　and　the　town　was　dull。　When　I　came　to　Omer　and　Joram’s；　I
  found　the　shutters　up；　but　the　shop　door　standing　open。　As　I　could
  obtain　a　perspective　view　of　Mr。　Omer　inside；　smoking　his　pipe　by
  the　parlour　door；　I　entered；　and　asked　him　how　he　was。
  ‘Why；　bless　my　life　and　soul！’　said　Mr。　Omer；　‘how　do　you　find
  yourself？　Take　a　seat。—Smoke　not　disagreeable；　I　hope？’
  ‘By　no　means；’　said　I。　‘I　like　it—in　somebody　else’s　pipe。’
  ‘What；　not　in　your　own；　eh？’　Mr。　Omer　returned；　laughing。　‘All
  the　better；　sir。　Bad　habit　for　a　young　man。　Take　a　seat。　I　smoke；
  myself；　for　the　asthma。’
  Mr。　Omer　had　made　room　for　me；　and　placed　a　chair。　He　now
  sat　down　again　very　much　out　of　breath；　gasping　at　his　pipe　as　if　it
  contained　a　supply　of　that　necessary；　without　which　he　must
  perish。
  ‘I　am　sorry　to　have　heard　bad　news　of　Mr。　Barkis；’　said　I。
  Mr。　Omer　looked　at　me；　with　a　steady　countenance；　and　shook
  his　head。
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  David　Copperfield
  ‘Do　you　know　how　he　is　tonight？’　I　asked。
  ‘The　very　question　I　should　have　put　to　you；　sir；’　returned　Mr。
  Omer；　‘but　on　account　of　delicacy。　It’s　one　of　the　drawbacks　of　our
  line　of　business。　When　a　party’s　ill；　we　can’t　ask　how　the　party　is。’
  The　difficulty　had　not　occurred　to　me；　though　I　had　had　my
  apprehensions　too；　when　I　went　in；　of　hearing　the　old　tune。　On　its
  being　mentioned；　I　recognized　it；　however；　and　said　as　much。
  ‘Yes；　yes；　you　understand；’　said　Mr。　Omer；　nodding　his　head。
  ‘We　dursn’t　do　it。　Bless　you；　it　would　be　a　shock　that　the　generality
  of　parties　mightn’t　recover；　to　say　“Omer　and　Joram’s
  compliments；　and　how　do　you　find　yourself　this　morning？”—or
  this　afternoon—as　it　may　be。’
  Mr。　Omer　and　I　nodded　at　each　other；　and　Mr。　Omer　recruited
  his　wind　by　the　aid　of　his　pipe。
  ‘It’s　one　of　the　things　that　cut　the　trade　off　from　attentions　they
  could　often　wish　to　show；’　said　Mr。　Omer。　‘Take　myself。　If　I　have
  known　Barkis　a　year；　to　move　to　as　he　went　by；　I　have　known　him
  forty　years。　But　I　can’t　go　and　say；　“how　is　he？”’
  I　felt　it　was　rather　hard　on　Mr。　Omer；　and　I　told　him　so。
  ‘I’m　not　more　self…interested；　I　hope；　than　another　man；’　said
  Mr。　Omer。　‘Look　at　me！　My　wind　may　fail　me　at　any　moment；　and
  it　ain’t　likely　that；　to　my　own　knowledge；　I’d　be　self…interested
  under　such　circumstances。　I　say　it　ain’t　likely；　in　a　man　who　knows
  his　wind　will　go；　when　it　does　go；　as　if　a　pair　of　bellows　was　cut
  open；　and　that　man　a　grandfather；’　said　Mr。　Omer。
  I　said；　‘Not　at　all。’
  ‘It　ain’t　that　I　complain　of　my　line　of　business；’　said　Mr。　Omer。
  ‘It　ain’t　that。　Some　good　and　some　bad　goes；　no　doubt；　to　all
  callings。　What　I　wish　is；　that　parties　was　brought　up　stronger…
  Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics
  David　Copperfield
  minded。’
  Mr。　Omer；　with　a　very　complacent　and　amiable　face；　took
  several　puffs　in　silence；　and　then　said；　resuming　his　first　point：
  ‘Accordingly　we’re　obleeged；　in　ascertaining　how　Barkis　goes
  on；　to　limit　ourselves　to　Em’ly。　She　knows　what　our　real　objects
  are；　and　she　don’t　have　any　more　alarms　or　suspicions　about　us；
  than　if　we　was　so　many　lambs。　Minnie　and　Joram　have　just
  stepped　down　to　the　house；　in　fact　（she’s　there；　after　hours；
  helping　her　aunt　a　bit）；　to　ask　her　how　he　is　tonight；　and　if　you　was
  to　please　to　wait　till　they　come　back；　they’d　give　you　full
  partic’lers。　Will　you　take　something？　A　glass　of　srub　and　water；
  now？　I　smoke　on　srub　and　water；　myself；’　said　Mr。　Omer；　taking
  up　his　glass；　‘because　it’s　considered　softening　to　the　passages；　by
  which　this　troublesome　breath　of　mine　gets　into　action。　But；　Lord
  bless　you；’　said　Mr。　Omer；　huskily；　‘it　ain’t　the　passages　that’s　out
  of　order！　“Give　me　breath　enough；”　said　I　to　my　daughter　Minnie；
  “and　I’ll　find　passages；　my　dear。”’
  He　really　had　no　breath　to　spare；　and　it　was　very　alarming　to
  see　him　laugh。　When　he　was　again　in　a　condition　to　be　talked　to；　I
  thanked　him　for　the　proffered　refreshment；　which　I　declined；　as　I
  had　just　had　dinner；　and；　observing　that　I　would　wait；　since　he　was
  so　good　as　to　invite　me；　until　his　daughter　and　his　son…in…law　came
  back；　I　inquired　how　little　Emily　was？
  ‘Well；　sir；’