I was feeling for it in the window-curtains, when Steerforth, laughing, took me by the arm and led me out.

We went downstairs, one behind another.

Near the bottom, somebody fell, and rolled down.

Somebody else said it was Copperfield.

I was angry at that false report, until, finding myself on my back in the passage, I began to think there might be some foundation for it.
A very foggy night, with great rings round the lamps in the streets! There was an indistinct talk of its being wet.