Its movables were ugly old chairs with worn-out seats, and ugly old chairs without any seats; a threadbare patternless carpet, a maimed table, a crippled wardrobe, a lean set of fire-irons like the skeleton of a set deceased, a washing-stand that looked as if it had stood for ages in a hail of dirty soapsuds, and a bedstead with four bare atomies of posts, each terminating in a spike, as if for the dismal accommodation of lodgers who might prefer to impale themselves.

Arthur opened the long low window, and looked out upon the old blasted and blackened forest of chimneys, and the old red glare in the sky, which had seemed to him once upon a time but a nightly reflection of the fiery environment that was presented to his childish fancy in all directions, let it look where it would.
He drew in his head again, sat down at the bedside, and looked on at Affery Flintwinch making the bed.
'Affery, you were not married when I went away.' She screwed her mouth into the form of saying 'No,' shook her head, and proceeded to get a pillow into its case.
'How did it happen ?' 'Why, Jeremiah, o' course,' said Affery, with an end of the pillow-case between her teeth.
'Of course he proposed it, but how did it all come about?
I should have thought that neither of you would have married; least of all should I have thought of your marrying each other.' 'No more should I,' said Mrs Flintwinch, tying the pillow tightly in its case.
'That's what I mean.

When did you begin to think otherwise ?' 'Never begun to think otherwise at all,' said Mrs Flintwinch.
Seeing, as she patted the pillow into its place on the bolster, that he was still looking at her as if waiting for the rest of her reply, she gave it a great poke in the middle, and asked, 'How could I help myself ?' 'How could you help yourself from being married!' 'O' course,' said Mrs Flintwinch.

'It was no doing o' mine.

I'D never thought of it.