“No, no,” said Mr. Peggotty. “You doen’t ought⁠—a married man like you⁠—or what’s as good⁠—to take and hull away a day’s work. And you doen’t ought to watch and work both. That won’t do. You go home and turn in. You ain’t afeerd of Em’ly not being took good care on, I know.”

Ham yielded to this persuasion, and took his hat to go. Even when he kissed her⁠—and I never saw him approach her, but I felt that nature had given him the soul of a gentleman⁠—she seemed to cling closer to her uncle, even to the avoidance of her chosen husband. I shut the door after him, that it might cause no disturbance of the quiet that prevailed; and when I turned back, I found Mr. Peggotty still talking to her.