my fingers tingled as if I had burnt them。
He caught the hand in his； and we stood in that connexion；
looking at each other。 We stood so； a long time； long enough for
me to see the white marks of my fingers die out of the deep red of
his cheek； and leave it a deeper red。
‘Copperfield；’ he said at length； in a breathless voice； ‘have you
taken leave of your senses？’
‘I have taken leave of you；’ said I； wresting my hand away。 ‘You
dog； I’ll know no more of you。’
‘Won’t you？’ said he； constrained by the pain of his cheek to put
his hand there。 ‘Perhaps you won’t be able to help it。 Isn’t this
ungrateful of you； now？’
‘I have shown you often enough；’ said I； ‘that I despise you。 I
have shown you now； more plainly； that I do。 Why should I dread
your doing your worst to all about you？ What else do you ever do？’
He perfectly understood this allusion to the considerations that
had hitherto restrained me in my communications with him。 I
rather think that neither the blow； nor the allusion； would have
escaped me； but for the assurance I had had from Agnes that
night。 It is no matter。
There was another long pause。 His eyes； as he looked at me；
seemed to take every shade of colour that could make eyes ugly。
‘Copperfield；’ he said； removing his hand from his cheek； ‘you
have always gone against me。 I know you always used to be
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against me at Mr。 Wickfield’s。’
‘You may think what you like；’ said I； still in a towering rage。 ‘If
it is not true； so much the worthier you。’
‘And yet I always liked you； Copperfield！’ he rejoined。
I deigned to make him no reply； and； taking up my hat； was
going out to bed； when he came between me and the door。
‘Copperfield；’ he said； ‘there must be two parties to a quarrel。 I
won’t be one。’
‘You may go to the devil！’ said I。
‘Don’t say that！’ he replied。 ‘I know you’ll be sorry afterwards。
How can you make yourself so inferior to me； as to show such a
bad spirit？ But I forgive you。’
‘You forgive me！’ I repeated disdainfully。
‘I do； and you can’t help yourself；’ replied Uriah。 ‘To think of
your going and attacking me； that have always been a friend to
you！ But there can’t be a quarrel without two parties； and I won’t
be one。 I will be a friend to you； in spite of you。 So now you know
what you’ve got to expect。’
The necessity of carrying on this dialogue （his part in which
was very slow； mine very quick） in a low tone； that the house
might not be disturbed at an unseasonable hour； did not improve
my temper； though my passion was cooling down。 Merely telling
him that I should expect from him what I always had expected；
and had never yet been disappointed in； I opened the door upon
him； as if he had been a great walnut put there to be cracked； and
went out of the house。 But he slept out of the house too； at his
mother’s lodging； and before I had gone many hundred yards；
came up with me。
‘You know； Copperfield；’ he said； in my ear （I did not turn my
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head）； ‘you’re in quite a wrong position’； which I felt to be true；
and that made me chafe the more； ‘you can’t make this a brave
thing； and you can’t help being forgiven。 I don’t intend to mention
it to mother； nor to any living soul。 I’m determined to forgive you。
But I do wonder that you should lift your hand against a person
that you knew to be so umble！’
I felt only less mean than he。 He knew me better than I knew
myself。 If he had retorted or openly exasperated me； it would have
been a relief and a justification； but he had put me on a slow fire；
on which I lay tormented half the night。
In the morning； when I came out； the early church…bell was
ringing； and he was walking up and down with his mother。 He
addressed me as if nothing had happened； and I could do no less
than reply。 I had struck him hard enough to give him the
toothache； I suppose。 At all events his face was tied up in a black
silk handkerchief； which； with his hat perched on the top of it； was
far from improving his appearance。 I heard that he went to a
dentist’s in London on the Monday morning； and had a tooth out。 I
hope it was a double one。
The Doctor gave out that he was not quite well； and remained
alone； for a considerable part of every day； during the remainder
of the visit。 Agnes and her father had been gone a week； before we
resumed our usual work。 On the day preceding its resumption； the
Doctor gave me with his own hands a folded note not sealed。 It
was addressed to myself； and laid an injunction on me； in a few
affectionate words； never to refer to the subject of that evening。 I
had confided it to my aunt； but to no one else。 It was not a subject I
could discuss with Agnes； and Agnes certainly had not the least
suspicion of what had passed。
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Neither； I felt convinced； had Mrs。 Strong then。 Several weeks
elapsed before I saw the least change in her。 It came on slowly；
like a cloud when there is no wind。 At first； she seemed to wonder
at the gentle compassion with which the Doctor spoke to her； and
at his wish that she should have her mother with her； to relieve the
dull monotony of her life。 Often； when we were at work； and she
was sitting by； I would see her pausing and looking at him with
that memorable face。 Afterwards； I sometimes observed her rise；
with her eyes full of tears； and go out of the room。 Gradually； an
unhappy shadow fell upon her beauty； and deepened every day。
Mrs。 Markleham was a regular inmate of the cottage then； but she
talked and talked； and saw nothing。
As this change stole on Annie； once like sunshine in the
Doctor’s house； the Doctor became older in appearance； and more
grave； but the sweetness of his temper； the placid kindness of his
manner； and his benevolent solicitude for her； if they were capable
of any increase； were increased。 I saw him once； early on the
morning of her birthday； when she came to sit in the window
while we were at work （which she had always done； but now
began to do with a timid and uncertain air that I thought very
touching）； take her forehead between his hands； kiss it； and go
hurriedly away； too much moved to remain。 I saw her stand where
he had left her； like a statue； and then bend down her head； and
clasp her hands； and weep； I cannot say how sorrowfully。
Sometimes； after that； I fancied that she tried to speak even to
me； in intervals when we were left alone。 But she never uttered a
word。 The Doctor always had some new project for her
participating in amusements away from home； with her mother；
and Mrs。 Markleham； who was very fond of amusements； and very
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easily dissatisfied with anything else； entered into them with great
good…will； and was loud in her commendations。 But Annie； in a
spiritless unhappy way； only went whither she was led； and
seemed to have no care for anything。
I did not know what to think。 Neither did my aunt； who must
have walked； at various times； a hundred miles in her uncertainty。
What was strangest of all was； that the only real relief which
seemed to make its way into the secret region of this domestic
unhappiness； made its way there in the person of Mr。 Dick。
What his thoughts were on the subject； or what his observation
was； I am as unable to explain； as I dare say he would have been to
assist me in the task。 But； as I have recorded in the narrative of my
school days； his veneration for the Doctor was unbounded； and
there is a subtlety of perception in real attachment； even when it is
borne towards man by one of the lower animals； which leaves the
highest intellect behind。 To this mind of the heart； if I may call it
so； in Mr。 Dick； some bright ray of the truth shot straight。
He had proudly resumed his privilege； in many of his spare
hours； of walking up and down the garden with the Doctor； as he
had been accustomed to pace up and down The Doctor’s Walk at
Canterbury。 But matters were no sooner in this state； than he
devoted all his spare time （and got up earlier to make it more） to
these perambulations。 If he had never been so happy as when the
Doctor read that marvellous performance； the Dictionary； to him；
he was now quite miserable unless the Doctor pulled it out of his
pocket； and began。 When the Doctor and I were engaged； he now
fell into the custom of walking up and down with Mrs。 Strong； and
helping her to trim her favourite flowers； or weed the beds。 I dare
say he rarely spoke a dozen words in an hour： but his quiet
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interest； and his wistful face； found immediate response in both
their breasts； each knew that the other liked him； and that he
loved both； and he became what no one else could be—a link
between them。
When I think of him； with his impenetrably wise face； walking
up and down with the Doctor； delighted to be battered by the hard
words in the Dictionary； when I think of him carrying huge
watering…pots after Annie； kneeling down； in very paws of gloves；
at patient microscopic work among the little leaves； expressing as
no philosopher could have expressed； in everything he did； a
delicate desire to be her friend； showering sympathy； trustfulness；
and affection； out of every hole in the watering…pot； when I think
of him never wandering in that better mind of his to which
unhappiness addressed itself； never bringing the unfortunate King
Charles into the garden； never wavering in his grateful service；
never diverted from his knowledge that there was something
wrong； or from his wish to set it right—I really feel almost
ashamed of having known that he was not quite in his wits； taking
account of the utmost I have done with mine。
‘Nobody but myself； Trot； knows what that man is！’ my aunt
would proudly remark； when we conversed about it。 ‘Dick will
distinguis