David Copperfield
and run him through the body. I was so haunted at last by
the idea, though I knew there was nothing in it, that I stole
into the next room to look at him. There I saw him, lying on
his back, with his legs extending to I don’t know where, gur-
glings taking place in his throat, stoppages in his nose, and
his mouth open like a post-office. He was so much worse in
reality than in my distempered fancy, that afterwards I was
attracted to him in very repulsion, and could not help wan-
dering in and out every half-hour or so, and taking another
look at him. Still, the long, long night seemed heavy and
hopeless as ever, and no promise of day was in the murky
sky.
When I saw him going downstairs early in the morning
(for, thank Heaven! he would not stay to breakfast), it ap-
peared to me as if the night was going away in his person.
When I went out to the Commons, I charged Mrs. Crupp
with particular directions to leave the windows open, that
my sitting-room might be aired, and purged of his pres-
ence.