| 产地 | 上海 |
|---|---|
| 额定电压 | 220V |
| 附加功能 | 手机遥控 |
| 高度 | 8CM-10CM |
| 功能 | 拖扫吸式 |
| 适用面积 | 120-150平米 |
| 品牌 | Galileo伽利略 |
| 型号 | FR-S01 |
| 是否带遥控器 | 是 |
| 吸尘器款式 | 卧式 |
| 外观造型 | 扫地机器人 |
| 清扫路线 | 规划式 |
| 是否自动充电 | 是 |
| 碰撞保护 | 机械+电子双层保护 |
| 是否有定时预约功能 | 是 |
| 有无虚拟墙 | 有 |
'
FragmentWelcome to consult...ose
to the room where my mother and her baby lay, and except that
she came to me every night, and sat by my bed’s head while I went
to sleep. A day or two before the burial—I think it was a day or two
before, but I am conscious of confusion in my mind about that
heavy time, with nothing to mark its progress—she took me into
the room. I only recollect that underneath some white covering on
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
f
David Copperfield
the bed, with a beautiful cleanliness and freshness all around it,
there seemed to me to lie embodied the solemn stillness that was
in the house; and that when she would have turned the cover
gently back, I cried: ‘Oh no! oh no!’ and held her hand.
If the funeral had been yesterday, I could not recollect it better.
The very air of the best parlour, when I went in at the door, the
bright condition of the fire, the shining of the wine in the
decanters, the patterns of the glasses and plates, the faint sweet
smell of cake, the odour of Miss Murdstone’s dress, and our black
clothes. Mr. Chillip is in the room, and comes to speak to me.
‘And how is Master David?’ he says, kindly.
I cannot tell him very well. I give him my hand, which he holds
in his.
‘Dear me!’ says Mr. Chillip, meekly smiling, with something
shining in his eye. ‘Our little friends grow up around us. They
grow out of our knowledge, ma’am?’ This is to Miss Murdstone,
who makes no reply.
‘There is a great improvement here, ma’am?’ says Mr. Chillip.
Miss Murdstone merely answers with a frown and a formal
bend: Mr. Chillip, discomfited, goes into a corner, keeping me with
him, and opens his mouth no more.
I remark this, because I remark everything that happens, not
because I care about myself, or have done since I came home. And
now the bell begins to sound, and Mr. Omer and another come to
make us ready. As Peggotty was wont to tell me, long ago, the
followers of my father to the same grave were made ready in the
same room.
There are Mr. Murdstone, our neighbour Mr. Grayper, Mr.
Chillip, and I. When we go out to the door, the Bearers and their
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
f
David Copperfield
load are in the gar**nd they move before us down the path,
and past the elms, and through the gate, and into the churchyard,
where I have so often heard the birds sing on a summer morning.
We stand around the grave. The day seems different to me from
every other **d the light not of the same colour—of a sadder
colour. Now there is a solemn hush, which we have brought from
home with what is resting in the mould; and while we stand
bareheaded, I hear the voice of the clergyman, sounding remote in
the open air, and yet distinct and plain, saying: ‘I am the
Resurrection and the Life, saith the Lord!’ Then I hear sobs; and,
standing apart among the lookers-on, I see that good and faithful
servant, whom of all the people upon earth I love the best, and
unto whom my childish heart is certain that the Lord will one day
say: ‘Well done.’
There are many faces that I know, among the little crowd; faces
that I knew in church, when mine was always wondering there;
faces that first saw my mother, when she came to the village in her
youthful bloom. I do not mind them—I mind nothing but my
grief—and yet I see and know them all; and even in the
background, far away, see Minnie looking on, and her eye glancing
on her sweetheart, who is near me.
It is over, and the earth is filled in, and we turn to come away.
Before us stands our hou
