Sweet Nothings

Sweet Nothings
The Abduction of Psyche
The British Are Coming
The Broken Pitcher
Ham made a motion with his head, as if she were outside. Mr. Peggotty took the light from the window, trimmed it, put it on the table, and was busily stirring the fire, when Ham, who had not moved, said: ¡¡¡¡'Mas'r Davy, will you come out a minute, and see what Em'ly and me has got to show you?' ¡¡¡¡We went out. As I passed him at the door, I saw, to my astonishment and fright, that he was deadly pale. He pushed me hastily into the open air, and closed the door upon us. Only upon us two. ¡¡¡¡'Ham! what's the matter?' ¡¡¡¡'Mas'r Davy! -' Oh, for his broken heart, how dreadfully he wept! ¡¡¡¡I was paralysed by the sight of
oil painting such grief. I don't know what I thought, or what I dreaded. I could only look at him. ¡¡¡¡'Ham! Poor good fellow! For Heaven's sake, tell me what's the matter!' ¡¡¡¡'My love, Mas'r Davy - the pride and hope of my art - her that I'd have died for, and would die for now - she's gone!' ¡¡¡¡'Gone!' ¡¡¡¡'Em'ly's run away! Oh, Mas'r Davy, think HOW she's run away, when I pray my good and gracious God to kill her (her that is so dear above all things) sooner than let her come to ruin and disgrace!' ¡¡¡¡The face he turned up to the troubled sky, the quivering of his clasped hands, the agony of his figure, remain associated with the lonely waste, in my remembrance, to this hour. It is always night there, and he is the only object in the scene.