“Now, I’m a-going upstairs to tell your aunt as Mas’r Davy’s here, and that’ll cheer her up a bit,” he said. “Sit ye down by the fire, the while, my dear, and warm those mortal cold hands. You doen’t need to be so fearsome, and take on so much. What? You’ll go along with me?⁠—Well! come along with me⁠—come! If her uncle was turned out of house and home, and forced to lay down in a dyke, Mas’r Davy,” said Mr. Peggotty, with no less pride than before, “it’s my belief she’d go along with him, now! But there’ll be someone else, soon⁠—someone else, soon, Em’ly!”

Afterwards, when I went upstairs, as I passed the door of my little chamber, which was dark, I had an indistinct impression of her being within it, cast down upon the floor. But, whether it was really she, or whether it was a confusion of the shadows in the room, I don’t know now.