CHARLES DICKENS DOMBEY AND SON CHAPTER I Dombey and ...

have devoted herself to this way of life, and to have made such a sacrifice
of her feelings, and such a resolute stand against her troubles, when Mr.
Pipchin broke his heart in the Peruvian mines.
At this exemplary old lady, Paul would sit staring in his little arm-chair
by the fire, for any length of time. He never seemed to know what weariness
was, when he was looking fixedly at Mrs. Pipchin. He was not fond of her; he
was not afraid of her; but in those old, old moods of his, she seemed to
have a grotesque attraction for him. There he would sit, looking at her, and
warming his hands, and looking at her, until he sometimes quite confounded
Mrs. Pipchin, Ogress as she was. Once she asked him, when they were alone,
what he was thinking about.
'You,' said Paul, without the least reserve.
'And what are you thinking about me?' asked Mrs. Pipchin.
'I'm thinking how old you must be,' said Paul.
'You mustn't say such things as that, young gentleman,' returned the dame.
'That'll never do.'
'Why not?' asked Paul.
'Because it's not polite,' said Mrs. Pipchin, snappishly.
'Not polite?' said Paul.
'No.'
'It's not polite,' said Paul, innocently, 'to eat all the mutton-chops and
toast, Wickam says.'
'Wickam,' retorted Mrs. Pipchin, colouring, 'is a wicked, impudent,
boldfaced hussy.'