We travelled very slowly all night, and did not get into Yarmouth before nine or ten o'clock in the morning.

I looked out for Mr.Barkis, but he was not there; and instead of him a fat, short-winded, merry-looking, little old man in black, with rusty little bunches of ribbons at the knees of his breeches, black stockings, and a broad-brimmed hat, came puffing up to the coach window, and said: 'Master Copperfield ?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Will you come with me, young sir, if you please,' he said, opening the door, 'and I shall have the pleasure of taking you home.' I put my hand in his, wondering who he was, and we walked away to a shop in a narrow street, on which was written OMER, DRAPER, TAILOR, HABERDASHER, FUNERAL FURNISHER, &c.

It was a close and stifling little shop; full of all sorts of clothing, made and unmade, including one window full of beaver-hats and bonnets.

We went into a little back-parlour behind the shop, where we found three young women at work on a quantity of black materials, which were heaped upon the table, and little bits and cuttings of which were littered all over the floor.
There was a good fire in the room, and a breathless smell of warm black crape--I did not know what the smell was then, but I know now.
The three young women, who appeared to be very industrious and comfortable, raised their heads to look at me, and then went on with their work.

Stitch, stitch, stitch.