David Copperfield

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 David Copperfield


wise not lay within the umble means of mother and self!’
‘Then, when your articled time is over, you’ll be a regular
lawyer, I suppose?’ said I.
‘With the blessing of Providence, Master Copperfield,’
returned Uriah.
‘Perhaps you’ll be a partner in Mr. Wickfield’s business,
one of these days,’ I said, to make myself agreeable; ‘and it
will be Wickfield and Heep, or Heep late Wickfield.’
‘Oh no, Master Copperfield,’ returned Uriah, shaking his
head, ‘I am much too umble for that!’
He certainly did look uncommonly like the carved face
on the beam outside my window, as he sat, in his humil-
ity, eyeing me sideways, with his mouth widened, and the
creases in his cheeks.
‘Mr. Wickfield is a most excellent man, Master Copper-
field,’ said Uriah. ‘If you have known him long, you know it,
I am sure, much better than I can inform you.’
I replied that I was certain he was; but that I had not
known him long myself, though he was a friend of my
aunt’s.
‘Oh, indeed, Master Copperfield,’ said Uriah. ‘Your aunt
is a sweet lady, Master Copperfield!’
He had a way of writhing when he wanted to express
enthusiasm, which was very ugly; and which diverted my
attention from the compliment he had paid my relation, to
the snaky twistings of his throat and body.
‘A sweet lady, Master Copperfield!’ said Uriah Heep. ‘She
has a great admiration for Miss Agnes, Master Copperfield,
I believe?’

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