David Copperfield
every year, sir. I met her in the street this afternoon, and she
wished to know if she might have the honour of waiting on
you after dinner, sir.’
‘Do you know the Giantess in question, Daisy?’ inquired
Steerforth.
I was obliged to confess - I felt ashamed, even of being at
this disadvantage before Littimer - that Miss Mowcher and
I were wholly unacquainted.
‘Then you shall know her,’ said Steerforth, ‘for she is one
of the seven wonders of the world. When Miss Mowcher
comes, show her in.’
I felt some curiosity and excitement about this lady, es-
pecially as Steerforth burst into a fit of laughing when I
referred to her, and positively refused to answer any ques-
tion of which I made her the subject. I remained, therefore,
in a state of considerable expectation until the cloth had
been removed some half an hour, and we were sitting over
our decanter of wine before the fire, when the door opened,
and Littimer, with his habitual serenity quite undisturbed,
announced:
‘Miss Mowcher!’
I looked at the doorway and saw nothing. I was still look-
ing at the doorway, thinking that Miss Mowcher was a long
while making her appearance, when, to my infinite aston-
ishment, there came waddling round a sofa which stood
between me and it, a pursy dwarf, of about forty or forty-
five, with a very large head and face, a pair of roguish grey
eyes, and such extremely little arms, that, to enable herself
to lay a finger archly against her snub nose, as she ogled