The Adventures of Tom Sawyer: Chapter 18-19-20

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:01):
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain. Chapter eighteen,
Tom reveals his dream secret. That was Tom's great secret,
the scheme to return home with his brother pirates and
attend their own funerals. They had paddled over to the
Missouri shore in a log at dusk on Saturday, landing
five or six miles below the village. They had slept

(00:22):
in the woods at the edge of the town till
nearly daylight, and had then crept through back lanes and
alleys and finished their sleep in the gallery of the
church among a chaos of invalided benches. At breakfast Monday morning,
Aunt Polly and Mary were very loving to Tom and
very attentive to his wants. There was an unusual amount

(00:43):
of talk in the course of it. Aunt Polly said, well,
I don't say it wasn't a fine joke, Tom, to
keep everybody suffering most a week. So you boys had
a good time, But it is a pity you could
be so hard hearted as to let me suffer. So
if you could have come over on a log to
go to your funeral, you could have come over and

(01:03):
give me a hint some way that you warn't dead,
but only run off. Yes, you could have done that, Tom,
said Mary. And I believe you would if you had
thought of it, would you, Tom? Said Aunt Polly, her
face lightning wistfully, say now, would you if you'd thought
of it? I well, I don't know. Twould have spoiled everything? Tom.

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I hoped you loved me that much, said Aunt Polly
with a grieved tone that discomforted the boy. It would
have been something if you'd cared enough to think of it,
even if you didn't do it. Now, Auntie, that ain't
any harm, pleaded Mary. It's only Tom's giddy way. He's
always in such a rush that he never thinks of anything.
More's the pity Sid would have thought, and Sid would

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have come and done it too. Tom, you'll look back
some day when it's too late and wish you'd cared
a little more for me, when it would have cost
you so little. Now, Auntie, you know I do care
for you, said Tom. I'd know it better if you
acted more like it. I wish now i'd thought, said Tom,
with a repentant tone. But I dreamed about you anyway.

(02:08):
That's something, ain't it. It ain't much A cat does
that much, but it's better than nothing. What did you dream? Why?
Wednesday night? I dreamt that you was sitting over there
by the bed, and Sid was sitting by the wood box,
and Mary next to him. Well, so we did, so
we always do. I'm glad your dreams could take even

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that much trouble about us. And I dreamt that Joe
Harper's mother was here? Why she was here? Did you
dream any more? Oh? Lots? But it's so dim now. Well,
try to recollect, can't you? Somehow it seems to me
that the wind, the wind blowed the the try harder, Tom,

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the wind did blow something come. Tom pressed his fingers
to his forehead an anxious minute, and then said, I've
got it. Now, I've got it now. He'd blowed the candle.
Mercy on us. Go on, Tom, go on. And it
seems to me that you said, why I believe that
that door? Go on? Tom, just let me study a moment,

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just a moment. Oh, yes, you said you believed the
door was open, as I'm sitting here, I did, didn't
I marry? Go on? And then and then well, I
won't be certain, but it seems like like ause if
you made Sid go and and well, well, what did
I make him do, Tom, what did I make him do?

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You made him you? Oh, you made him shut it? Well,
for Land's sake, I never heard the beat of that
in all my days. Don't tell me there ain't anything
in dreams anymore. Serenity Harper shall know of this before
I'm an hour older. I'd like to see her get
around this with her rubbage about superstition. Go on, Tom, Oh,

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it's all getting just as bright as day now. Next
you said I warn't bad, only mischievous and harum scarum,
and not any more responsible. Then then I think it
was a cult or something, And so it was, well, goodness, gracious,
go on, Tom. And then you began to cry. So
I did so I did not the first time neither.

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And then but then missus Harper she began to cry
and said Joe was just the same, and she wished
she hadn't whipped him for taking cream when she'd thrown
it out of her own self. Tom, the spirit was
upon you. You was a prophesying, that's what she was
a doing. Let alive. Go on, Tom. Well, then Sid
he said, He said, Well, I don't think I said anything,

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said Sid. Yes you did, Sid said, Mary, shut your
heads and let Tom go. What did he say, Tom?
He said, I think he said he hoped I was
better off where I was gone to, But if I'd
been better sometimes there d'ye hear that? It was his
very words? And you shut him up sharp, I lay,
I did, there must have been an angel. There there

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was an angel somewheres. And missus Harper told about Joe
scaring her with a firecracker, and you told about Peter
and the pain killer, just as true as I live.
And then there was a whole lot of talk about
dragging the river for us, and about having the funeral Sunday,
and then you and old miss Harper hugged and cried,
and she went, it happened just so. It happened, just so,

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as sure as I'm sitting in these very tracks, Tom,
you couldn't have told it more like if you'd have
seen it. And then what go on? Tom? Then I
thought you prayed for me, and I could see you
and hear every word you said, and you went to bed,
and I was so sorry that I took and wrote
on a piece of sycamore bark we ain't dead, we
were only off being pirates, and put it on the

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table by the candle. And then you looked so good
laying there asleep that I thought I went and leaned
over and kissed you on the lips. Did you, Tom?
Did you? I just forgive you everything for that? And
she seized the boy in a crushing embrace that made
him feel like that guiltiest of villains. It was very kind,
even though it was only a dream, said Soliloquiz. Just audibly,

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shut up, Sid. A body does just the same in
a dream as he'd do if he was awake. Here's
a big milum apple I've been saving for you, Tom,
if you was ever found again. Now go long to school.
I'm thankful to the good God and father of us
all I've got you back. That's long suffering and merciful
to them that believe on him and keep his word,
Though Goodness knows I'm unworthy of it. But if only

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the worthy ones got his blessings and had his hand
to help them over the rough places, there's few enough
would smile here or ever enter into his rest when
the long night comes. Go along, Sid, Mary, Tom, take
yourselves off. You've hindered me long enough. The children left
for school, and the old lady to call on Missus
Harper and vanquish her realism with Tom's marvelous dream. Sid

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had better judgment than to utter the thought that was
in his mind as he left the house. It was
this pretty thin, as long as a dream as that
without any mistakes in it. What a hero Tom was become.
Now he did not go skipping and prancing, but moved
with a dignified swagger, as became a pirate who felt
that the public eye was on him, and indeed it was.

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He tried not to seem to see the looks or
hear the remarks as he passed along, but they were
food and drink to him. Smaller boys than himself flocked
at his heels, as proud to be seen with him,
and tolerated by him, as if he had been the
drummer at the head of a procession or the elephant
leading a menagerie into town. Boys of his own size
pretended not to know he had been away at all,

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but they were consuming with envy. Nevertheless, they would have
given anything to have had that swarthy, sun tanned skin
of his and his glittering notoriety, and Tom would not
have parted with either for a circus at school The
children made so much of him and of Joe, and
delivered such eloquent admiration from their eyes that the two

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heroes were not long in becoming in sufferably stuck up.
They began to tell their adventures to hungry listeners, but
they only began. It was not a thing likely to
have an end with imaginations like theirs to furnish material.
And finally, when they got out their pipes and went
serenely puffing around, the very summit of glory was reached.

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Tom decided that he could be independent of Becky Thatcher.
Now glory was sufficient. He would live for glory. Now
that he was distinguished. Maybe she would be wanting to
make up. Well, let her she should see that he
could be as indifferent as some other people. Presently she arrived,
Tom pretended not to see her. He moved away and

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joined a group of boys and girls and began to talk.
Soon he observed that she was tripping gaily back and forth,
with flushed face and dancing eyes, pretending to be busy
chasing schoolmates, and screaming with laughter when she made a capture.
But he noticed that she always made her captures in
his vicinity, and that she seemed to cast a conscious
eye in his direction at such time, too. It gratified

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all the vicious vanity that was in him, and so
instead of winning him, it only set him up the
more and made him the more diligent to avoid betraying
that he knew she was about. Presently, she gave over
skylarking and moved irresolutely about, sighing once or twice, and
glancing furtively and wistfully toward Tom. Then she observed that

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now Tom was talking more particularly to Amy Lawrence than
to any one else. She felt a sharp pang and
grew disturbed and uneasy. At once. She tried to go away,
but her feet were treacherous and carried her to the group. Instead.
She said to a girl almost at Tom's elbow, with
sham vivacity, Why Mary Austin, you bad girl? Why didn't
you come to Sunday School? I did come. Didn't you

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see me? Why no? Did you? Where did you sit?
I was in Miss Peter's class, where I always go.
I saw you? Did you? Why it's funny I didn't
see you. I wanted to tell you about the picnic.
Oh that's jolly, who's going to give it? My La
is going to let me have one? Oh goody, I
hope she'll let me come. Well, she will. The picnic's

(10:06):
for me. She'll let anybody come that I want, and
I want you. That's ever so nice. When is it
going to be by and by maybe a botivacation? Oh?
Won't it be fun? You going to have all the
girls and boys? Yes, every one that's friends to me
or wants to be. And she glanced ever so furtively
at Tom, But he talked right along to Amy Lawrence

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about the terrible storm on the island and how the
lightning tore the great sycamore tree all to flinders while
he was standing within three feet of it. Oh may
I come, said Gracie Miller. Yes, and me said Sally Rodgers. Yes,
and me too, said Susie Harper. And Joe Yes, and
so on, with clapping of joyful hands, till all the

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group had begged for invitations but Tom and Amy. Then
Tom turned coolly away, still talking, and took Amy with him.
Becky's lips trembled and the tears came to her eyes.
She hid these signs with a forced deity and went
on chattering. But the life had gone out of the
picnic now and out of everything else. She got away
as soon as she could, and hid herself and had

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what her sex call a good cry. Then she sat
moody with wounded pride till the bell rang. She roused
up now with a vindictive cast in her eye, and
gave her plaited tails a shake, and said she knew
what she'd do. At recess. Tom continued his flirtation with
Amy with jubilant self satisfaction, and he kept drifting about

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to find Becky and lacerate her with the performance. At
last he spied her, but there was a sudden falling
of his mercury. She was sitting cozily on a little
bench behind the schoolhouse, looking at a picture book with
Alfred Temple, and so absorbed were they, and their heads
so close together over the book, that they did not
seem to be conscious of anything in the world besides

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Jealousy ran red hot through Tom's veins. He began to
hate himself for throwing away the chance Becky had offered
for a reconciliation. He called himself a fool, and all
the hard names he could think of. He wanted to
cry with vexation. Amy chatted happily along as they walked,
for her heart was singing, but Tom's tongue had lost
its function. He did not hear what Amy was saying,

(12:14):
and whenever she paused expectantly, he could only stammer an
awkward assent, which was as often misplaced as otherwise. He
kept drifting to the rear of the schoolhouse again and
again to sear his eyeballs with a hateful spectacle. There
he could not help it, and it maddened him to
see as he thought he saw that Becky Thatcher never
once suspected that he was even in the land of

(12:35):
the living. But she did see, nevertheless, and she knew
she was winning her fight too, and was glad to
see him suffer as she had suffered. Amy's happy prattle
became intolerable. Tom hinted at things he had to attend, to,
things that must be done, and time was fleeting, but
in vain the girl chirped on. Tom thought, oh, hang her,

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ain't I ever going to get rid of her? At last?
He must be attending to those things. And she said
artlessly that she would be round when school left out,
and he hastened away, hating her for it. Any other boy,
Tom thought, grating his teeth, any boy in the whole town.
But that Saint Louis Smarty, that thinks he dresses so
fine and is aristocracy. Oh all right, I licked you

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the first day you ever saw this town, mister, and
I'll lick you again. You just wait till I catch
you out. I'll just take and and he went through
the motions of thrashing an imaginary boy, pummeling the air
and kicking and gouging. Oh you do, do you? You
holler enough? Do you? Now? Then let that learn you?
And so the imaginary flogging was finished. To his satisfaction,
Tom fled home at noon. His conscience could not endure

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any more of Amy's grateful happiness, and his jealousy could
bear no more of the other distress. Becky resumed her
picture inspections with Alfred, but as the minutes dragged along
and no Tom came to suffer, her triumph began to
cloud and she lost interest. Gravity and absent mindedness followed,
and then melancholy. Two or three times she pricked up

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her ear at a footstep, but it was a false hope.
No Tom came. At last, She grew entirely miserable and
wished she hadn't carried it so far. When poor Alfred,
seeing that he was losing her, he did not know how,
kept exclaiming, Oh, here's a jolly one, look at this.
She lost patience at last and said, oh, don't bother me.

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I don't care for them, and burst into tears and
got up and walked away. Alfred dropped alongside and was
going to try to comfort her, but she said, go
away and leave me alone, can't you? I hate you.
So the boy halted, wondering what he could have done,
for she had said she would look at pictures all
through the nooning, and she walked on crying. Then Alfred
went musing into the deserted schoolhouse. He was humiliated and angry.

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He easily guessed his way to the truth. The girl
had simply made a convenience of him to vent her
spite upon Tom Sawyer. He was far from hating Tom
the less. When this thought occurred to him, he wished
there was some way to get that boy into trouble
without much risk to himself. Tom's spelling book fell under
his eye. Here was his opportunity. He gratefully opened to

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the lesson for the afternoon and poured ink upon the page. Becky,
glancing in at a window behind him at the moment,
saw the act and moved on without discovering herself. She
started homeward, now intending to find Tom and tell him
Tom would be thankful and their troubles would be healed.
Before she was half way home, however, she had changed
her mind. The thought of Tom's treatment of her when

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she was talking about her picnic came scorching back and
filled her with shame. She resolved to let him get
whipped on the damaged spelling book's account, and to hate
him forever into the bargain. End of chapter eighteen, Chapter nineteen,
The cruelty of I didn't think. Tom arrived at home

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in a dreary mood, and the first thing his aunt
said to him showed him that he had brought his
sorrows to an unpromising market. Tom, I've a notion to
skin you alive, Auntie. What have I done? Well, You've
done enough. Here. I go over to Serenity Harper like
an old softy, expecting I'm going to make her believe
all that rubbage about that dream. When lo and behold

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you she'd found out from Joe that you was over
here and heard all the talk we had that night. Tom,
I don't know what is to become of a boy
that will act like that. It makes me feel so
bad to think that you could let me go to
Serenity Harper and make such a fool of myself and
never say a word. This was a new aspect of
the thing. His smartness of the morning had seemed to
Tom a good joke before, and very ingenious. It merely

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looked mean and shabby. Now. He hung his head and
could not think of anything to say for a moment.
Then he said, Auntie, I wished I hadn't done it,
But I didn't think. Oh child, you never think. You
never think of anything but your own selfishness. You could
think to come all the way over here from Jackson's
Island in the night to laugh at our troubles, and

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you could think to fool me with a lie about
a dream, but you couldn't ever think to pity us
and save us from sorrow. Addie, I know now it
was mean, but I didn't mean it to be mean.
I didn't honest, And besides, I didn't come over here
to laugh at you that night. What did you come for? Then?
It was to tell you not to be uneasy about us,
because we hadn't got drowned, Tom, Tom, I would be

(17:23):
the thankfullest soul in this world if I could believe
you ever had as good a thought as that. But
you know you never did, and I know it, Tom, Indeed,
indeed I did. Addie, I wish I may never stir
if I didn't. Oh, Tom, don't lie. Don't do it.
It only makes things a hundred times worse. It ain't
a lie, Attie, it's the truth. I wanted to keep
you from grieving. That was all that made me come.

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I'd give the whole world to believe that it would
cover up a power of sins. Tom, I'd most be
glad you'd run off and acted so bad. But it
ain't reasonable, because why didn't you tell me? Child? Why
you see, when you got to talking about the funeral,
I just got all full of the idea of our
coming and hiding in the church, and I couldn't somehow

(18:07):
bear to spoil it. So I just put the bark
back in my pocket and kept mum, what bark? The
bark I wrote on to tell you we'd gone pirrating.
I wish now you'd waked up when I kissed you.
I do honest. The hard lines in his aunt's face relaxed,
and a sudden tenderness dawned in her eyes. Did you
kiss me, Tom? Why? Yes I did. Are you sure

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you did, Tom? Why? Yes? I did, Auntie certain sure?
What did you kiss me for? Tom? Because I loved
you so and you laid there moaning, and I was
so sorry. The words sounded like truth. The old lady
could not hide a tremor in her voice when she said,
kiss me again, Tom, and be off with you to
school now, and don't bother me any more. The moment

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he was gone, she ran to a closet and got
out the ruin of a jacket which Tom had gone
pirating in. Then she stopped with it in her hand
and said to herself, No, I don't dare poor boy.
I reckon he'd lied about it. But it's a blessed,
blessed lie. There's such a comfort come from it. I
hope the Lord. I know the Lord will forgive him
because it was such good heartedness, and to tell it,

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but I don't want to find out it's a lie.
I won't look. She put the jacket away and stood
by musing a minute. Twice she put out her hand
to take the garment again, and twice she refrained. Once
more she ventured, and this time she fortified herself with
a thought, it's a good lie. It's a good lie.
I won't let it grieve me. So she sought the
jacket pocket. A moment later, she was reading Tom's piece

(19:37):
of bark through the flowing tears and saying, I forgive
the boy now if he'd committed a million sins. End
of chapter nineteen. Chapter twenty, Tom takes Becky's punishment. There
was something about Aunt Polly's manner when she kissed Tom
that swept away his low spirits and made him light

(19:58):
hearted and happy again. He stuck hard to school and
had the luck of coming upon Becky Thatcher at the
head of Meadow Lane. His mood always determined his manner.
Without a moment's hesitation, he ran to her and said,
I acted mighty mean to day, Becky, and I'm so sorry.
I won't ever ever do that way again as long
as I ever live. Please make up, won't you? The

(20:18):
girl stopped and looked at him scornfully in the face.
I'll thank you to keep yourself to yourself, mister Thomas Sawyer,
I'll never speak to you again. She tossed her head
and passed on. Tom was so stunned that he had
not even presence of mind enough to say who cares
miss Smarty until the right time to say it had
gone by, so he said nothing, but he was in

(20:39):
a fine rage. Nevertheless, he moped into the schoolyard, wishing
she were a boy, and imagining how he would trounce
her if she were. He presently encountered her and delivered
a stinging remark. As he passed. She hurled one in return,
and the angry breach was complete. It seemed to Becky,
in her hot resentment, that she could hardly wait for
school to take in. She was so impatient to see

(20:59):
Tom flogged for the injured spelling book. If she had
had any lingering notion of exposing to Alfred Temple, Tom's
offensive fling had driven it entirely away. Poor girl, she
did not know how fast she was nearing trouble herself.
The master mister Dobbins had reached middle age with an
unsatisfied ambition the darling of his desires was to be

(21:20):
a doctor, but poverty had decreed that he should be
nothing higher than a village schoolmaster. Every day he took
a mysterious book out of his desk and absorbed himself
in it. At times when no classes were reciting, he
kept that book under lock and key. There was not
an urchin in school, but was perishing to have a
glimpse of it. But the chance never came. Every boy

(21:40):
and girl had a theory about the nature of that book,
but no two theories were alike, and there was no
way of getting at the facts in the case. Now,
as Becky was passing by the desk, which stood near
the door, she noticed that the key was in the lock.
It was a precious moment. She glanced around, found herself alone,
and the next instant she had the book in her hands.
The title page, Professor Somebody's Anatomy, carried no information to

(22:04):
her mind, so she began to turn the leaves she
came at once upon a handsomely engraved and colored frontispiece
a human figure stark naked. At that moment a shadow
fell on the page, and Tom Sawyer stepped in at
the door and caught the glimpse of the picture. Becky
snatched at the book to close it and had the
hard luck to tear the pictured plate half down the middle.

(22:25):
She thrust the volumes into the desk, turned the key,
and burst out, crying with shame and vexation. Tom Sawyer,
you are just as mean as you can be to
sneak up on a person and and look at what
they're looking at? How could I know you was looking
at anything? You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Tom Sawyer,
you know you're going to tell on me and I
I what shall I do? What shall I do? I'll
be whipped? And I never was whipped in school. Then

(22:48):
she stamped her little foot and said, be so mean.
If you want to I know something that's going to
happen you just wait and you'll see hateful, hateful, hateful,
And she flung out of the house with a new
explosion of crying. Tom stood still, rather flustered by this,
onslaught Presently, he said to himself, what a curious kind
of a fool. A girl is never been licked in school? Shucks?

(23:12):
What's a lickin' that's just like a girl there's so
thin skinned and chicken hearted. Well, of course I ain't
going to tell Old Dobbins on this little fool, because
there's other ways of getting even on her that ain't
so mean. But what of it? Old Dobbins will ask
who it was toward his book. Nobody'll answer. Then he'll
do just the way he always does, ask first one,

(23:32):
then t'other, and when he comes to the right girl,
he'll know it without any telling. Girls faces always tell
on them. They ain't got any backbone. She'll get licked. Well,
it's a kind of a tight place for Becky Thatcher,
because there ain't any way out of it. Tom conned
the thing a moment longer, and then added, all right,
though she'd like to see me in such a fix,

(23:53):
let her sweat it out. Tom joined the mob of
skylarking scholars outside. In a few moments the master arrived
in school took in. Tom did not feel a strong
interest in his studies. Every time he stole a glance
at the girl's side of the room, Becky's face troubled him.
Considering all things, he did not want to pity her,
and yet it was all he could do to help it.
He could get up no exaltation that was really worthy.

(24:15):
The name presently the spelling book discovery was made, and
Tom's mind was entirely full of his own matters for
a while. After that, Becky roused up from her lethargy
of distress and showed good interest in the proceedings. She
did not expect that Tom could get out of his
trouble by denying that he spilt the ink on the
book himself, and she was right. The denial only seemed

(24:35):
to make the thing worse for Tom. Becky supposed she
would be glad of that, and she tried to believe
she was glad of it, but she found she was
not certain. When the worst came to the worst, she
had an impulse to get up and tell on Alfred Temple,
But she made an effort and forced herself to keep still, because,
said she to herself, he'll tell about me tearing the book. Sure,

(24:57):
I wouldn't say a word, not to save his life.
Tom took his whipping and went back to his seat,
not at all broken hearted, for he thought it was
possible that he had unknowingly upset the ink on the
spelling book himself in some skylarking bout. He had denied
it for form's sake, and because it was custom and
had stuck to the denial from principle. A whole hour

(25:18):
drifted by. The Master sat nodding in his throne. The
air was drowsy with the hum of study. By and by.
Mister Dobbins straightened himself up, yawned, and then unlocked his
desk and reached for his book, but seemed undecided whether
to take it out or leave it. Most of the
pupils glanced up languidly, but there was two among them
that watched his movements with intent eyes. Mister Dobbins fingered

(25:39):
his book absently for a while, then took it out
and settled himself in his chair to read. Tom shot
a glance at Becky. He had seen a hunted and
helpless rabbit look as she did, with a gun leveled
at its head. Instantly he forgot his quarrel with her
quick Something must be done done in a flash too,
But the very imminence of the emergency paralyzed his invention.

(26:00):
And good he had an inspiration he would run and
snatch the book, spring through the door, and fly. But
his resolution shook for one little instant, and the chance
was lost. The Master opened the volume. If Tom only
had the wasted opportunity back again too late. There was
no help for Becky now, he said. The next moment,
the Master faced the school. Every eye sank under his gaze.

(26:22):
There was that in it which smote even the innocent
with fear. There was silence while one might count ten.
The Master was gathering his wrath. Then he spoke, who
tore this book? There was not a sound. One could
have heard a pin drop. The stillness continued. The Master
searched face after face for signs of guilt. Benjamin Rogers,

(26:46):
did you tear this book? A denial? Another pause? Joseph
Harper did you? Another denial? Tom's uneasiness grew more and
more intense under the slow torture of these proceedings. The
Master scanned the ranks of boys, considered a while, then
turned to the girls. Amy Lawrence a shake of the head,

(27:06):
gra C. Miller the same sign Susan Harper, did you
do this? Another negative? The next girl was Becky Thatcher.
Tom was trembling from head to foot with excitement and
a sense of hopelessness of the situation. Rebecca Thatcher. Tom
glanced at her face. It was white with terror. Did
you tear no look me in the face. Her hands

(27:29):
rose in appeal. Did you tear this book? A thought
shot like lightning through Tom's brain. He sprang to his
feet and shouted, I done it. The school stared in
perplexity at this incredible folly. Tom stood a moment to
gather his dismembered faculties, and when he stepped forward to
go to his punishment, the surprise, the gratitude, the adoration

(27:50):
that shone upon him out of poor Becky's eyes seemed
pay enough for a hundred floggings. Inspired by the splendor
of his own act, he took, without an outcry, the
most merciful as flaying that even mister Dobbins had ever administered,
and also received with indifference. The added cruelty of a
command to remain two hours after school should be dismissed,

(28:10):
for he knew who would wait for him outside till
his captivity was done, and not count the tedious time
as loss either. Tom went to bed that night planning
vengeance against Alfred Temple, for with shame and repentance Becky
had told him all not forgetting her own treachery. But
even the longing for vengeance had to give way soon

(28:30):
to pleasanter musings, and he fell asleep at last, with
Becky's latest words lingering dreamily in his ear. Tom, how
could you be so noble? End of Chapter twenty