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...of the furniture at our
old home, and that Mr. and Miss Murdstone were gone away, and
the house was shut up, to be let or sold. God knows I had no part
in it while they remained there, but it pained me to think of the
dear old place as altogether abandoned; of the weeds growing tall
in the gar**nd the fallen leaves lying thick and wet upon the
paths. I imagined how the winds of winter would howl round it,
how the cold rain would beat upon the window-glass, how the
moon would make ghosts on the walls of the empty rooms,
watching their solitude all night. I thought afresh of the grave in
the churchyard, underneath the tree: and it seemed as if the house
were dead too, now, and all connected with my father and mother
were faded away.
There was no other news in Peggotty’s letters. Mr. Barkis was
an excellent husband, she said, though still a little near; but we all
had our faults, and she had plenty (though I am sure I don’t know
what they were); and he sent his duty, and my little bedroom was
always ready for me. Mr. Peggotty was well, and Ham was well,
and Mrs.. Gummidge was but poorly, and little Em’ly wouldn’t
send her love, but said that Peggotty might send it, if she liked.
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David Copperfield
All this intelligence I dutifully imparted to my aunt, only
reserving to myself the mention of little Em’ly, to whom I
instinctively felt that she would not very tenderly incline. While I
was yet new at Doctor Strong’s, she made several excursions over
to Canterbury to see me, and always at unseasonable hours: with
the view, I suppose, of taking me by surprise. But, finding me well
employed, and bearing a good character, and hearing on all hands
that I rose fast in the school, she soon discontinued these visits. I
saw her on a Saturday, every third or fourth week, when I went
over to Dover for a treat; and I saw Mr. Dick every alternate
Wednesday, when he arrived by stage-coach at noon, to stay until
next morning.
On these occasions Mr. Dick never travelled without a leathern
writing-desk, containing a supply of stationery and the Memorial;
in relation to which document he had a notion that time was
beginning to press now, and that it really must be got out of hand.
Mr. Dick was very partial to gingerbread. To render his visits
the more agreeable, my aunt had instructed me to open a credit
for him at a cake shop, which was hampered with the stipulation
that he should not be served with more than one shilling’s-worth
in the course of any one day. This, and the reference of all his little
bills at the county inn where he slept, to my aunt, before they were
paid, induced me to suspect that he was only allowed to rattle his
money, and not to spend it. I found on further investigation that
this was so, or at least there was an agreement between him and
my aunt that he should account to her for all his disbursements.
As he had no idea of deceiving her, and always desired to please
her, he was thus made chary of launching into expense. On this
point, as well as on all other possible points, Mr. Dick was
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David Copperfield
convinced that my aunt was the wisest and most wonderful of
women; as he repeatedly told me with infinite secrecy, and always
in a whisper.
‘Trotwood,’ said Mr. Dick, with an air of mystery, after
imparting this confidence to me, on