She forgot to be shy at the moment, in honestly warning him away from the sunken wreck he had a dream of raising; and looked at him with eyes which assuredly, in association with her patient face, her fragile figure, her spare dress, and the wind and rain, did not turn him from his purpose of helping her.

It's in vain to recall the past, unless it works some influence upon the present.

"It's nothing," returned Mrs Chick. "It's merely change of weather. We must expect change."

Gold, for the instant, lost its luster in his eyes, for there were countless treasures of the heart which it could never purchase

After tea, we discussed a variety of topics before the fire; and Mrs. Micawber was good enough to sing us (in a small, thin, flat voice, which I remembered to have considered, when I first knew her, the very table-beer of acoustics) the favourite ballads of "The Dashing White Sergeant", and "Little Tafflin".

There seems a magic in the very name of Christmas.

I only know that it was, and ceased to be; and that I have written, and there I leave it.