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Dickens, Charles

"David Copperfield"

Another, SHE calls it a fan. I call it whatever THEY call it. I supply it for 'em, but we keep up the trick so, to one another, and make believe with such a face, that they'd as soon think of laying it on, before a whole drawing-room, as before me. And when I wait upon 'em, they'll say to me sometimes - WITH IT ON - thick, and no mistake - "How am I looking, Mowcher? Am I pale?" Ha! ha! ha! ha! Isn't THAT refreshing, my young friend!'


? ? ? ? I never did in my days behold anything like Mowcher as she stood upon the dining table, intensely enjoying this refreshment, rubbing busily at Steerforth's head, and winking at me over it.


? ? ? ? 'Ah!' she said. 'Such things are not much in demand hereabouts. That sets me off again! I haven't seen a pretty woman since I've been here, jemmy.'


? ? ? ? 'No?' said Steerforth.


? ? ? ? '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?'


? ? ? ? The first exclamation sounded like a question put to both of us, and the second like a question put to Steerforth only.


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