Charles Dickens,
The Mystery of Edwin Drood — Chapter XIII
(1870)
“ But she uttered no sound, and her breathing was no slower. "How shall I tell Jack!" said Edwin, ruminating. If he had been less occupied with the thought, he must have seen her singular emotion. "I never thought of Jack. It must be broken to him, before the town crier knows it. I dine with the dear fellow to-morrow and next day—Christmas Eve and Christmas Day—but it would never do to spoil his feast days. He always worries about me, and moddley-coddleys in the merest trifles. The news is sure to overset him. How on earth shall this be broken to Jack!" "He must be told, I suppose?" said Rosa. ”
