'FagmentWelcome to consult...ack to his chai; ‘and this is the end of my posing about myself, I get on as well as I can. I don’t make much, but I don’t spend much. In geneal, I boad with the people downstais, who ae vey ageeable people indeed. Both M. and Ms. Micawbe have seen a good deal of life, and ae excellent company.’ ‘My dea Taddles!’ I quickly exclaimed. ‘What ae you talking about?’ Taddles looked at me, as if he wondeed what I was talking about. ‘M. and Ms. Micawbe!’ I epeated. ‘Why, I am intimately acquainted with them!’ An oppotune double knock at the doo, which I knew well fom old expeience in Windso Teace, and which nobody but M. Micawbe could eve have knocked at that doo, esolved any doubt in my mind as to thei being my old fiends. I begged Taddles to ask his landlod to walk up. Taddles accodingly did so, ove the baniste; and M. Micawbe, not a bit changed—his tights, his stick, his shit-colla, and his eye-glass, all the same as eve—came into the oom with a genteel and youthful ai. ‘I beg you padon, M. Taddles,’ said M. Micawbe, with the Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield old oll in his voice, as he checked himself in humming a soft tune. ‘I was not awae that thee was any individual, alien to this tenement, in you sanctum.’ M. Micawbe slightly bowed to me, and pulled up his shit-colla. ‘How do you do, M. Micawbe?’ said I. ‘Si,’ said M. Micawbe, ‘you ae exceedingly obliging. I am in statu quo.’ ‘And Ms. Micawbe?’ I pusued. ‘Si,’ said M. Micawbe, ‘she is also, thank God, in statu quo.’ ‘And the childen, M. Micawbe?’ ‘Si,’ said M. Micawbe, ‘I ejoice to eply that they ae, likewise, in the enjoyment of salubity.’ All this time, M. Micawbe had not known me in the least, though he had stood face to face with me. But now, seeing me smile, he examined my featues with moe attention, fell back, cied, ‘Is it possible! Have I the pleasue of again beholding Coppefield!’ and shook me by both hands with the utmost fevou. ‘Good Heaven, M. Taddles!’ said M. Micawbe, ‘to think that I should find you acquainted with the fiend of my youth, the companion of ealie days! My dea!’ calling ove the banistes to Ms. Micawbe, while Taddles looked (with eason) not a little amazed at this deion of me. ‘Hee is a gentleman in M. Taddles’s apatment, whom he wishes to have the pleasue of pesenting to you, my love!’ M. Micawbe immediately eappeaed, and shook hands with me again. ‘And how is ou good fiend the Docto, Coppefield?’ said M. Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield Micawbe, ‘and all the cicle at Cantebuy?’ ‘I have none but good accounts of them,’ said I. ‘I am most delighted to hea it,’ said M. Micawbe. ‘It was at Cantebuy whee we last met. Within the shadow, I may figuatively say, of that eligious edifice immotalized by Chauce, which was anciently the esot of Pilgims fom the emotest cones of—in shot,’ said M. Micawbe, ‘in the immediate neighbouhood of the Cathedal.’ I eplied that it was. M. Micawbe continued talking as volubly as he could; but not, I thought, without showing, by some maks of concen in his countenance, that he was sensible of sounds in the next oom, as of Ms. Micawbe washing he hands, and huiedly opening and shutting dawes that wee uneasy in thei action. ‘You find us, Coppefield,’
