David Copperfield
amiable wife. Consequently, I was not prepared, at seven
o’clock next morning, to receive the following communi-
cation, dated half past nine in the evening; a quarter of an
hour after I had left him: -
‘My DEAR YOUNG FRIEND,
‘The die is cast - all is over. Hiding the ravages of care with
a sickly mask of mirth, I have not informed you, this eve-
ning, that there is no hope of the remittance! Under these
circumstances, alike humiliating to endure, humiliating to
contemplate, and humiliating to relate, I have discharged
the pecuniary liability contracted at this establishment, by
giving a note of hand, made payable fourteen days after date,
at my residence, Pentonville, London. When it becomes due,
it will not be taken up. The result is destruction. The bolt is
impending, and the tree must fall.
‘Let the wretched man who now addresses you, my dear
Copperfield, be a beacon to you through life. He writes with
that intention, and in that hope. If he could think himself
of so much use, one gleam of day might, by possibility, pen-
etrate into the cheerless dungeon of his remaining existence
- though his longevity is, at present (to say the least of it), ex-
tremely problematical.
‘This is the last communication, my dear Copperfield,
you will ever receive
‘From
‘The
‘Beggared Outcast,
‘WILKINS MICAWBER.’
