File:Our mutual friend (1895) (14778006651).jpg

Identifier: ourmutualfriend00dick (find matches)
Title: Our mutual friend
Year: 1895 (1890s)
Authors: Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870 Dickens, Charles, 1837-1896, ed
Subjects: Inheritance and succession Social classes Poor families Deception
Publisher: New York, London, Macmillan
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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ead it. There was no time to make it longer. Time was so veryprecious. My dear friend, Mr. Eugene Wrayburn, is dying. The dressmaker clasped her hands, and uttered a little piteous cry. Is dying, repeated Lightwood, with emotion, at some distancefrom here. He is sinking under injuries received at the hands ofa villain who attacked him in the dark. I come straight from hisbedside. He is almost always insensible. In a short restless inter-val of sensibility, or partial sensibility, I made out that he askedfor you to be brought to sit by him. Hardly relying on my owninterpretation of the indistinct sounds he made, I caused Lizzie tohear them. We were both sure that he asked for you. The dressmaker, with her hands still clasped, looked affrightedlyfrom the one to the other of her two companions. If you delay, he may die with his request ungratified, with hislast wish — intrusted to me — we have long been much more thanbrothers — unfulfilled. I shall break down, if I try to say more.
Text Appearing After Image:
/I/ ^ t J/^ 2z 706 OUR MUTUAL FRIEND. In a few moments the black bonnet and the crutch-stick wereon duty, the good Jew was left in possession of the house, and thedolls dressmaker, side by side in a chaise with Mortimer Light-wood, was i^osting out of town. CHAPTER X. THE dolls dressmaker DISCOVERS A WORD. A DARKENED and hushed room; the river outside the windowsflowing on to the vast ocean; a figure on the bed, swathed andbandaged and bound, lying helpless on its back, with its two use-less arms in splints at its sides. Only two days of usage so famil-iarised the little dressmaker with this scene, that it held the placeoccupied two days ago by the recollections of years. He had scarcely moved since her arrival. Sometimes his eyeswere open, sometimes closed. When they were open, there was nomeaning in their unwinking stare at one spot straight before them,unless for a moment the brow knitted into a faint expression ofanger, or surprise. Then, Mortimer Lightwood would speak tohim, and

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