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'My other piece of advice, Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber, 'you know. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure nineteen nineteen and six, result happiness. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure twenty pounds ought and six, result misery. The blossom is blighted, the leaf is withered, the god of day goes down upon the dreary scene, and - and in short you are for ever floored. As I am!' ¡¡¡¡To make his example the more impressive,
Mr. Micawber drank a glass of punch with an air of great enjoyment and satisfaction, and whistled the College Hornpipe. ¡¡¡¡I did not fail to assure him that I would store these precepts in my mind, though indeed I had no need to do so, for, at the time, they affected me visibly. Next morning I met the whole family at the coach office, and saw them, with a desolate heart, take their places outside, at the back.

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the piece of paper they were wrapped in: which was a precious saving. When we went upstairs to bed, he produced the whole seven shillings'worth, and laid it out on my bed in the moonlight, saying: ¡¡¡¡'There you are, young Copperfield, and a royal spread you've got.' ¡¡¡¡I couldn't think of doing the honours of the feast, at my time of life, while he was by; my hand shook at the very thought of it. I begged him to do me the favour of presiding; and my request being seconded by the other boys who were in that room, he acceded to it, and sat upon my pillow,
handing round the viands - with perfect fairness, I must say - and dispensing the currant wine in a little glass without a foot, which was his own property. As to me, I sat on his left hand, and the rest were grouped about us, on the nearest beds and on the floor. ¡¡¡¡How well I recollect our sitting there, talking in whispers; or their talking, and my respectfully listening, I ought rather to say; the moonlight falling a little way into the room, through the window, painting a pale window on the floor, and the greater part of us in shadow, except when Steerforth dipped a match into a phosphorus-box, when he wanted to look for anything on the board, and shed a blue glare over us that was gone directly! A certain mysterious feeling, consequent on the darkness, the

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This had gone on for a month or two when there came a Saturday in September, on which a fair and a market coincided; and the pilgrims from Trantridge sought double delights at the inns on that account. Tess's occupations made her late in setting out, so that her comrades reached the town long before her. It was a fine September evening, just before sunset, when yellow lights struggle with blue shades in hair-like lines, and the atmosphere itself forms a prospect without aid from more solid objects, except the innumerable winged insects that dance in it. Through this low-lit mistiness Tess walked leisurely along. ¡¡¡¡She did not discover the coincidence of the market with the fair till she had reached the place, by which time it was close upon dusk. Her limited marketing was soon completed; and then as usual she began to look about for some of the Trantridge cottagers.

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"He came out of his room wearing his overcoat andwent down the stairs at 3 a.m. in the morning?"
　　"Yes," said MissMarple and added: "I thought it odd at the time."
　　Father looked at her for some moments.
　　"Miss Marple," hesaid, "why haven't you told anyonethis before?"
　　"Nobody asked me," saidMiss Marple simply.
"He came out of his room wearing his overcoat andwent down the stairs at 3 a.m. in the morning?"
　　"Yes," said MissMarple and added: "I thought it odd at the time."
　　Father looked at her for some moments.
　　"Miss Marple," hesaid, "why haven't you told anyonethis before?"
　　"Nobody asked me," saidMiss Marple simply.

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A station wagon, driven along a country road slowedup as it came upon an old Morris Oxford stationary by the hedge, with an elderly manstanding over it.
　　The driver of the station wagon put out a head.
　　"Having trouble? Can I help?"
　　"Very good of you. It'smy lights."
　　The two drivers approaches each other – listened. "All clear."
　　Various expensive American-style cases weretransferred from the Morris Oxford to the station wagon.
　　A mile or two farther on, the station wagon turnedoff on what looked like a rough track but which presently turned out to be the back way toa large and opulent mansion. In what had been a stableyard, a big white Mercedes car wasstanding. The driver of the station wagon opened its boot with a key, transferred thecases to the boot, and drove away again in the station wagon.

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Still there she was – nodoubt of it. Hardly a month passed without Bess Sedgwick'sface appearing in the fashion magazines or the popular press. Here she was in the flesh,smoking a cigarette in a quick impatient manner and looking in a surprised way at thelarge tea tray in front of her as thought she had never seen one before. She had ordered –Miss Marple screwed up her eyes and peered – it was rather far away – yes, doughnuts. Veryinteresting.
　　As she watched, Bess Sedgwick stubbed out hercigarette in her saucer, lifted a doughnut and took an immense bite. Rich red realstrawberry jam gushed out over her chin. Bess threw back her head and laughed, one of theloudest and gayest sounds to have been heard in the lounge of Bertram's Hotel for sometime.

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Luke closed his eyes with absolute concentration. Threepio began rattling on ina terribly unsettled manner, as if he'd been caught falsifying his own program."They don't believe me, Master Luke, just as I told you…" Luke wasn't listening to the droid, though; he was visualizing him. Seeing himsitting shiny and golden on his throne of twigs, nodding this way and that, prattling onabout the most inconsequential of matters, sitting there in the black void of Luke'sconsciousness…and slowly beginning to rise. Slowly, Threepio began to rise. At first, he didn't notice; at first, nobody did. Threepio just went right ontalking, as his entire litter steadily elevated off the ground. "…told you, I told you, Itold you they wouldn't. I don't know why you—wha—wait a minute…what'shappening here?…"