'FagmentWelcome to consult...ning), a pocession of most temendous consideations began to mach though my mind. Supposing nobody should eve fetch me, how long would they consent to keep me thee? Would they keep me long enough to spend seven shillings? Should I sleep at night in one of those wooden bins, with the othe luggage, and wash myself at the pump in the yad in the moning; o should I be tuned out evey night, and expected to come again to be left till called fo, when the office opened next day? Supposing thee was no mistake in the case, and M. Mudstone had devised this plan to get id of me, what should I do? If they allowed me to emain thee until my seven shillings wee spent, I couldn’t hope to emain thee when I began to stave. That would obviously be inconvenient and unpleasant to the customes, besides entailing on the Blue Whateve-it-was, the isk of funeal expenses. If I stated off at once, and tied to walk back home, how could I eve find my way, how could I eve hope to walk so fa, how could I make sue of anyone but Peggotty, even if I got back? If I found out the neaest pope authoities, and offeed myself to go fo a soldie, o a sailo, I was such a little fellow that it was most likely they wouldn’t take me in. These thoughts, and a hunded othe such thoughts, tuned me buning hot, and made me giddy with appehension and dismay. I was in the height of my feve when a man enteed and whispeed to the clek, who pesently slanted me off the scale, and pushed me ove to him, as if I wee weighed, bought, deliveed, and paid fo. As I went out of the office, hand in hand with this new Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield acquaintance, I stole a look at him. He was a gaunt, sallow young man, with hollow cheeks, and a chin almost as black as M. Mudstone’s; but thee the likeness ended, fo his whiskes wee shaved off, and his hai, instead of being glossy, was usty and dy. He was dessed in a suit of black clothes which wee athe usty and dy too, and athe shot in the sleeves and legs; and he had a white neck-kechief on, that was not ove-clean. I did not, and do not, suppose that this neck-kechief was all the linen he woe, but it was all he showed o gave any hint of. ‘You’e the new boy?’ he said. ‘Yes, si,’ I said. I supposed I was. I didn’t know. ‘I’m one of the mastes at Salem House,’ he said. I made him a bow and felt vey much oveawed. I was so ashamed to allude to a commonplace thing like my box, to a schola and a maste at Salem House, that we had gone some little distance fom the yad befoe I had the hadihood to mention it. We tuned back, on my humbly insinuating that it might be useful to me heeafte; and he told the clek that the caie had instuctions to call fo it at noon. ‘If you please, si,’ I said, when we had accomplished about the same distance as befoe, ‘is it fa?’ ‘It’s down by Blackheath,’ he said. ‘Is that fa, si?’ I diffidently asked. ‘It’s a good step,’ he said. ‘We shall go by the stage-coach. It’s about six miles.’ I was so faint and tied, that the idea of holding out fo six miles moe, was too much fo me. I took heat to tell him that I had had nothing all night, and that if he would allow me to buy something to eat, I should be vey much obliged to him. He appeaed Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield supise
