Peggotty gasped, as if she were swallowing something 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. 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. "Recollect! control yourself! Davy boy, how do you do?"
I gave him my hand. Then I went over to my mother. She kissed me, patted me gently on the shoulder, and sat down again to her work, while Mr. Murdstone watched us both. I turned to look out of the window, and as soon as I could, I crept up-stairs. My old dear bedroom was changed, and I was to sleep a long way off, and there on my bed, thinking miserable thoughts, I cried myself to sleep. I was awakened by somebody saying, "Here he is!" and there beside me were my mother and Peggotty, asking what was the matter.
I answered, "Nothing," and turned over, to hide my trembling lip.
"Davy," said my mother. "Davy, my child!"
Then when she would have caressed me in the old fashion, Mr. Murdstone came up and sent the others away.