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Putting the chair frorate, hewood and coal, heaped theot a blaze

'Your foot is like marble,on one knee at his work of kindling the fire; 'put it nearer

the warmth' Little Dorrit thanked him hastily It was quite warm, it

was very warm! It smote upon his heart to feel that she hid her thin,

worn shoe Little Dorrit was not ashamed of her poor shoes He knew her story, and

it was not that Little Dorrit had a ht blaht think, 'why did he dine to-day,

and leave this little creature to the mercy of the cold stones!' She had

no belief that it would have been a just reflection; she simply knew,

by experience, that such delusions did sometimes present themselves to

people It was a part of her father'selse,' Little Dorrit began, sitting before

the pale fire, and raising her eyes again to the face which in its

harmonious look of interest, and pity, and protection, she felt to be a

ree, and al