"What does that spell?" he asked me.
When I told him, he laughed. In the same odd way, yet with the same rapidity, he then produced singly, and rubbed out singly, the letters forming the words Bleak House. These, in some astonishment, I also read; and he laughed again.
"Hi!" said the old man, laying aside the chalk. "I have a turn for copying from memory, you see, miss, though I can neither read nor write."

"What does that spell?" he asked me.
When I told him, he laughed. In the same odd way, he then produced singly, and rubbed out, the letters forming the words Bleak House. These, in some astonishment, I also read; and he laughed again.
"Hi!" said he. "I can copy from memory, you see, miss, though I can neither read nor write."
