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I recollect well how indignantly my heart beat, as I saw his crafty face, with the appropriately red light of the fire upon it, preparing for something else. ¡¡¡¡'Master Copperfield,' he began - 'but am I keeping you up?' ¡¡¡¡'You are not keeping me up. I generally go to bed late.' ¡¡¡¡'Thank you, Master Copperfield! I have risen from my umble station since first you used to address me, it is true; but I am umble still. I hope I never shall be otherwise than umble. You will not think the worse of my umbleness, if I make a little confidence to you, Master Copperfield? Will you?' ¡¡¡¡'Oh no,' said I, with an effort. ¡¡¡¡'Thank you!' He
oil painting
took out his pocket-handkerchief, and began wiping the palms of his hands. 'Miss Agnes, Master Copperfield -' 'Well, Uriah?' ¡¡¡¡'Oh, how pleasant to be called Uriah, spontaneously!' he cried; and gave himself a jerk, like a convulsive fish. 'You thought her looking very beautiful tonight, Master Copperfield?' ¡¡¡¡'I thought her looking as she always does: superior, in all respects, to everyone around her,' I returned. ¡¡¡¡'Oh, thank you! It's so true!' he cried. 'Oh, thank you very much for that!' ¡¡¡¡'Not at all,' I said, loftily. 'There is no reason why you should thank me.'