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have no money in my pocket, and to wear a shabby coat,
and to be able to carry Dora no little presents, and to ride
no gallant greys, and to show myself in no agreeable light!
Sordid and selfish as I knew it was, and as I tortured my-
self by knowing that it was, to let my mind run on my own
distress so much, I was so devoted to Dora that I could not
help it. I knew that it was base in me not to think more of
my aunt, and less of myself; but, so far, selfishness was in-
separable from Dora, and I could not put Dora on one side
for any mortal creature. How exceedingly miserable I was,
that night!
As to sleep, I had dreams of poverty in all sorts of shapes,
but I seemed to dream without the previous ceremony of
going to sleep. Now I was ragged, wanting to sell Dora
matches, six bundles for a halfpenny; now I was at the of-
fice in a nightgown and boots, remonstrated with by Mr.
Spenlow on appearing before the clients in that airy attire;
now I was hungrily picking up the crumbs that fell from old
Tiffey’s daily biscuit, regularly eaten when St. Paul’s struck
one; now I was hopelessly endeavouring to get a licence to
marry Dora, having nothing but one of Uriah Heep’s gloves
to offer in exchange, which the whole Commons rejected;
and still, more or less conscious of my own room, I was
always tossing about like a distressed ship in a sea of bed-
clothes.
My aunt was restless, too, for I frequently heard her
walking to and fro. Two or,three times in the course of the
night, attired in a long flannel wrapper in which she looked
seven feet high, she appeared, like a disturbed ghost, in my