Charles Dickens,
Hard Times — Book the Second, Chapter XI
(1854)
“ Louisa put into one carriage, Mrs. Sparsit put into another: the little station a desert speck in the thunderstorm.Though her teeth chattered in her head from wet and cold, Mrs. Sparsit exulted hugely. The figure had plunged down the precipice, and she felt herself, as it were, attending on the body. Could she, who had been so active in the getting up of the funeral triumph, do less than exult? ‘She will be at Coketown long before him,’ thought Mrs. Sparsit, ‘though his horse is never so good. Where will she wait for him? And where will they go together? Patience. ”
