David Copperfield
those who have stood by him - Janet! Donkeys!’
I thoroughly believe that but for those unfortunate don-
keys, we should have come to a good understanding; for my
aunt had laid her hand on my shoulder, and the impulse
was upon me, thus emboldened, to embrace her and be-
seech her protection. But the interruption, and the disorder
she was thrown into by the struggle outside, put an end to
all softer ideas for the present, and kept my aunt indignantly
declaiming to Mr. Dick about her determination to appeal
for redress to the laws of her country, and to bring actions
for trespass against the whole donkey proprietorship of Do-
ver, until tea-time.
After tea, we sat at the window - on the look-out, as I
imagined, from my aunt’s sharp expression of face, for more
invaders - until dusk, when Janet set candles, and a back-
gammon-board, on the table, and pulled down the blinds.
‘Now, Mr. Dick,’ said my aunt, with her grave look, and
her forefinger up as before, ‘I am going to ask you another
question. Look at this child.’
‘David’s son?’ said Mr. Dick, with an attentive, puzzled
face.
‘Exactly so,’ returned my aunt. ‘What would you do with
him, now?’
‘Do with David’s son?’ said Mr. Dick.
‘Ay,’ replied my aunt, ‘with David’s son.’
‘Oh!’ said Mr. Dick. ‘Yes. Do with - I should put him to
bed.’
‘Janet!’ cried my aunt, with the same complacent triumph
that I had remarked before. ‘Mr. Dick sets us all right. If the