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第8章 踏平

heavy mist of the heavy streets, with a heavier heart.

height and pomp of beadleship, to the lowest depth of the most

her—more freely than I did that morning.

holding him in her arms. “How well he looks, and how like a

hope ever to be forgiven, Mr. Rivers, the high crime and

her figure disappeared in like manner, still no nearer to them than

his attention to coals.’

He turned towards him in his chair, but did not look at him, or

her eyes. All this time, Mr. Wickfield had his glance upon her as