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round and round her finger, and to dance with me at twi-
light in the parlour. What Peggotty had told me now, was so
far from bringing me back to the later period, that it rooted
the earlier image in my mind. It may be curious, but it is
true. In her death she winged her way back to her calm un-
troubled youth, and cancelled all the rest.
The mother who lay in the grave, was the mother of my
infancy; the little creature in her arms, was myself, as I had
once been, hushed for ever on her bosom.