规划扫地机 哈尔滨擦地机 小吸尘器家用 汉

产地	上海
额定电压	220V
附加功能	手机遥控
功能	拖扫吸式
适用面积	120-150平米
品牌	galileo/伽利略
型号	FR-S01
是否带遥控器	是
吸尘器款式	卧式
外观造型	扫地机器人
清扫路线	规划式
是否自动充电	是
碰撞保护	机械+电子双层保护
是否有定时预约功能	是
有无虚拟墙	有

 FragmentWelcome to consult...om
he meant.

We got out; and leaving him to hold the pony, went into a long
low parlour looking towards the street, from the window of which
I caught a glimpse, as I went in, of Uriah Heep breathing into the
pony’s nostrils, and immediately covering them with his **s if
he were putting some spell upon him. Opposite to the tall old
chimney-piece were two portraits: one of a gentleman with grey
hair (though not by any means an old man) and black eyebrows,
who was looking over some papers tied together with red tape; the
other, of a lady, with a very placid and sweet of face,
who was looking at me.

I believe I was turning about in search of Uriah’s picture, when,

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

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David Copperfield

a door at the farther end of the room opening, a gentleman
entered, at sight of whom I turned to the first-mentioned portrait
again, to make quite sure that it had not come out of its frame. But
it was stationary; and as the gentleman advanced into the light, I
saw that he was some years older than when he had had his
picture painted.

‘Miss Betsey Trotwood,’ said the gentleman, ‘pray walk in. I was
engaged for a moment, but you’ll excuse my being busy. You know
my motive. I have but one in life.’

Miss Betsey thanked him, and we went into his room, which
was furnished as an office, with books, papers, tin boxes, and so
forth. It looked into a gar**nd ha**ron safe let into the
wall; so immediately over the mantelshelf, that I wondered, as I sat
down, how the sweeps got round it when they swept the chimney.

‘Well, Miss Trotwood,’ said Mr. Wickfield; for I soon found that
it was he, and that he was a lawyer, and steward of the estates of a
rich gentleman of the county; ‘what wind blows you here? Not an
ill wind, I hope?’

‘No,’ replied my aunt. ‘I have not come for any law.’

‘That’s right, ma’am,’ said Mr. Wickfield. ‘You had better come
for anything else.’ His hair was quite white now, though his
eyebrows were still black. He had a very agreeable face, and, I
thought, was handsome. There was a certain richness in his
complexion, which I had been long accustomed, under Peggotty’s
tuition, to connect with port wine; and I fancied it was in his voice
too, and referred his growing corpulency to the same cause. He
was very cleanly dressed, in a blue coat, striped waistcoat, and
nankeen trousers; and his fine frilled shirt and cambric neckcloth
looked unusually soft and white, reminding my strolling fancy (I

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

f
David Copperfield

call to mind) of the plumage on the breast of a swan.

‘This is my nephew,’ said my aunt.

‘Wasn’t aware you had one, Miss Trotwood,’ said Mr. Wickfield.

‘My grand-nephew, that is to say,’ observed my aunt.

‘Wasn’t aware you had a grand-nephew, I give you my word,’
said Mr. Wickfield.

‘I have adopted him,’ said my aunt, with a wave of her hand,
importing that his knowledge and his ignorance were all one to
her, ‘and I have brought him here, to put to a school where he may
be thoroughly well taught, and well treated. Now tell me where
that school is, and what it is, and all about it.’

‘Before I can advise you properly,’ said Mr. Wickfield—‘the old
question, you know. What’s your motive in this?’

‘Deuce take the man!’ exclaimed my aunt. ‘Always fishing for
motives, when they’re on the surface! Why, to make the child
happy and useful.’

‘It must be a mixed motive, I think,’ said Mr. Wickfield, shaking
his head and smiling incredulously.

‘A mixed fiddlestick,’ returned my aunt. ‘You claim to have one
plain motive in all you do yourself. You don’t suppose, I hope, that
you are the only plain dealer in the world?’

‘Ay, but I have only one motive in life, Miss Trotwood,’ he
rejoined, smiling. ‘Other people have dozens, scores, hundreds. I
have only one. There’s