I ought to have made it, perhaps, but I couldn't azackly'-- that was always the substitute for exactly, in Peggotty's militia of words--'bring my mind to it.' 'Go on, Peggotty,' said I, more frightened than before.
'Master Davy,' said Peggotty, untying her bonnet with a shaking hand, and speaking in a breathless sort of way.

'What do you think?
You have got a Pa!' I trembled, and turned white.

Something--I don't know what, or how--connected with the grave in the churchyard, and the raising of the dead, seemed to strike me like an unwholesome wind.
'A new one,' said Peggotty.
'A new one ?' I repeated.
Peggotty gave a gasp, as if she were swallowing something that was very hard, and, putting out her hand, said: 'Come and see him.' 'I don't want to see him.' -- 'And your mama,' said Peggotty.
I ceased to draw back, and we went straight to the best parlour, where she left me.

On one side of the fire, sat my mother; on the other, Mr.
Murdstone.

My mother dropped her work, and arose hurriedly, but timidly I thought.
'Now, Clara my dear,' said Mr.Murdstone.