David Copperfield by Charles Dickens Chapter 22 Page 32

and Mithers himself came into the room where I was waiting for her — THERE’S a man! How HE wears! and his wig too, for he’s had it these ten years — and he went on at that rate in the complimentary line, that I began to think I should be obliged to ring the bell.

Ha! ha! ha! He’s a pleasant wretch, but he wants principle.’

‘What were you doing for Lady Mithers?’ asked Steerforth.

‘That’s tellings, my blessed infant,’ she retorted, tapping her nose again, screwing up her face, and twinkling her eyes like an imp of supernatural intelligence. ‘Never YOU mind! You’d like to know whether I stop her hair from falling off, or dye it, or touch up her complexion, or improve her eyebrows, wouldn’t