David Copperfield
I noticed, I remember, as he paused, looking at me with
his handsome head a little thrown back, and his glass raised
in his hand, that, though the freshness of the sea-wind was
on his face, and it was ruddy, there were traces in it, made
since I last saw it, as if he had applied himself to some ha-
bitual strain of the fervent energy which, when roused, was
so passionately roused within him. I had it in my thoughts
to remonstrate with him upon his desperate way of pursu-
ing any fancy that he took - such as this buffeting of rough
seas, and braving of hard weather, for example - when my
mind glanced off to the immediate subject of our conversa-
tion again, and pursued that instead.
‘I tell you what, Steerforth,’ said I, ‘if your high spirits
will listen to me -’
‘They are potent spirits, and will do whatever you like,’ he
answered, moving from the table to the fireside again.
‘Then I tell you what, Steerforth. I think I will go down
and see my old nurse. It is not that I can do her any good,
or render her any real service; but she is so attached to me
that my visit will have as much effect on her, as if I could do
both. She will take it so kindly that it will be a comfort and
support to her. It is no great effort to make, I am sure, for
such a friend as she has been to me. Wouldn’t you go a day’s
journey, if you were in my place?’
His face was thoughtful, and he sat considering a little
before he answered, in a low voice, ‘Well! Go. You can do
no harm.’
‘You have just come back,’ said I, ‘and it would be in vain
to ask you to go with me?’