'Miss Agnes, Master Copperfield--' 'Well, Uriah ?' 'Oh, how pleasant to be called Uriah, spontaneously!' he cried; and gave himself a jerk, like a convulsive fish.

'You thought her looking very beautiful tonight, Master Copperfield ?' 'I thought her looking as she always does: superior, in all respects, to everyone around her,' I returned.
'Oh, thank you! It's so true!' he cried.

'Oh, thank you very much for that!' 'Not at all,' I said, loftily.

'There is no reason why you should thank me.' 'Why that, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah, 'is, in fact, the confidence that I am going to take the liberty of reposing.

Umble as I am,' he wiped his hands harder, and looked at them and at the fire by turns, 'umble as my mother is, and lowly as our poor but honest roof has ever been, the image of Miss Agnes (I don't mind trusting you with my secret, Master Copperfield, for I have always overflowed towards you since the first moment I had the pleasure of beholding you in a pony-shay) has been in my breast for years.