Page 702 - david-copperfield

‘Is it your doing!’ she retorted. ‘Why do you bring this
man here?’
‘He is a deeply-injured man, Miss Dartle,’ I replied. ‘You
may not know it.’
‘I know that James Steerforth,’ she said, with her hand on
her bosom, as if to prevent the storm that was raging there,
from being loud, ‘has a false, corrupt heart, and is a trai-
tor. But what need I know or care about this fellow, and his
common niece?’
‘Miss Dartle,’ I returned, ‘you deepen the injury. It is suf-
ficient already. I will only say, at parting, that you do him a
great wrong.’
‘I do him no wrong,’ she returned. ‘They are a depraved,
worthless set. I would have her whipped!’
Mr. Peggotty passed on, without a word, and went out
at the door.
‘Oh, shame, Miss Dartle! shame!’ I said indignantly. ‘How
can you bear to trample on his undeserved affliction!’
‘I would trample on them all,’ she answered. ‘I would
have his house pulled down. I would have her branded on
the face, dressed in rags, and cast out in the streets to starve.
If I had the power to sit in judgement on her, I would see it
done. See it done? I would do it! I detest her. If I ever could
reproach her with her infamous condition, I would go any-
where to do so. If I could hunt her to her grave, I would. If
there was any word of comfort that would be a solace to her
in her dying hour, and only I possessed it, I wouldn’t part
with it for Life itself.’
The mere vehemence of her words can convey, I am sen-

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