How do you do, my little friend ?' The clock in the hall wouldn't subscribe to this alteration in the form of words, but continued to repeat how, is, my, lit, tle, friend?
how, is, my, lit, tle, friend ?' 'Very well, I thank you, Sir,' returned Paul, answering the clock quite as much as the Doctor.
'Ha!' said Doctor Blimber.

'Shall we make a man of him ?' 'Do you hear, Paul ?' added Mr Dombey; Paul being silent.
'Shall we make a man of him ?' repeated the Doctor.
'I had rather be a child,' replied Paul.
'Indeed!' said the Doctor.

'Why ?' The child sat on the table looking at him, with a curious expression of suppressed emotion in his face, and beating one hand proudly on his knee as if he had the rising tears beneath it, and crushed them.

But his other hand strayed a little way the while, a little farther--farther from him yet--until it lighted on the neck of Florence.

'This is why,' it seemed to say, and then the steady look was broken up and gone; the working lip was loosened; and the tears came streaming forth.
'Mrs Pipchin,' said his father, in a querulous manner, 'I am really very sorry to see this.' 'Come away from him, do, Miss Dombey,' quoth the matron.
'Never mind,' said the Doctor, blandly nodding his head, to keep Mrs Pipchin back.