I had already broken out into a desolate cry, and felt an orphan in the wide world.
She was very kind to me.

She kept me there all day, and left me alone sometimes; and I cried, and wore myself to sleep, and awoke and cried again.

When I could cry no more, I began to think; and then the oppression on my breast was heaviest, and my grief a dull pain that there was no ease for.
And yet my thoughts were idle; not intent on the calamity that weighed upon my heart, but idly loitering near it.

I thought of our house shut up and hushed.

I thought of the little baby, who, Mrs.Creakle said, had been pining away for some time, and who, they believed, would die too.