Mr. Peggotty went occasionally to a public-house called The Willing Mind. I discovered this, by his being out on the second or third evening of our visit, and by Mrs. Gummidge’s looking up at the Dutch clock, between eight and nine, and saying he was there, and that, what was more, she had known in the morning he would go there.
Mrs. Gummidge had been in a low state all day, and had burst into tears in the forenoon, when the fire smoked. ‘I am a lone lorn creetur’,’ were Mrs. Gummidge’s words, when that unpleasant occurrence took place, ‘and everythink goes contrary with me.’
‘Oh, it’ll soon leave off,’ said Peggotty - I again mean our Peggotty - ‘and besides, you know, it’s not more disagreeable to you than to us.’
‘I feel it more,’ said Mrs. Gummidge.
It was a very cold day, with cut
