arms.

What extravagances she committed; what laughing and crying over me; what pride she showed, what joy, what sorrow that she whose pride and joy I might have been, could never hold me in a fond embrace; I have not the heart to tell.

I was troubled with no misgiving that it was young in me to respond to her emotions. I had never laughed and cried in all my life, I dare say — not even to her — more freely than I did that morning.

‘Barkis will be so glad,’ said Peggotty, wiping her eyes with her apron, ‘that it’ll do him more good than pints of liniment. May I go and tell him you are here? Will you come up and see him, my dear?’

Of course I would.