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

Florence on the sofa and his nephew in all parts of the parlour, 'it's the
most extraordinary--'
'No, but do, uncle, please--do, Miss Florence--dinner, you know, uncle.'
'Yes, yes, yes,' cried Solomon, cutting instantly into a leg of mutton, as
if he were catering for a giant. 'I'll take care of her, Wally! I
understand. Pretty dear! Famished, of course. You go and get ready. Lord
bless me! Sir Richard Whittington thrice Lord Mayor of London.'
Walter was not very long in mounting to his lofty garret and descending from
it, but in the meantime Florence, overcome by fatigue, had sunk into a doze
before the fire. The short interval of quiet, though only a few minutes in
duration, enabled Solomon gills so far to collect his wits as to make some
little arrangements for her comfort, and to darken the room, and to screen
her from the blaze. Thus, when the boy returned, she was sleeping
peacefully.
'That's capital!' he whispered, giving Solomon such a hug that it squeezed a
new expression into his face. 'Now I'm off. I'll just take a crust of bread
with me, for I'm very hungry--and--don't wake her, Uncle Sol.'
'No, no,' said Solomon. Pretty child.'
'Pretty, indeed!' cried Walter. 'I never saw such a face, Uncle Sol. Now I'm
off.'
'That's right,' said Solomon, greatly relieved.
'I say, Uncle Sol,' cried Walter, putting his face in at the door.
'Here he is again,' said Solomon.
'How does she look now?'
'Quite happy,' said Solomon.