“DOMBEY AND SON” BY CHARLES DICKENS
Florence took her seat at the dinner-table, on the day before the second anniversary of her father’s marriage to Edith(detached construction), with an uneasiness amounting to dread. She had no other warrant for it, than the occasion, the expression of her father’s face, in the hasty glance she caught of it, and the presence of Mr. Carker, which, always unpleasant to her(detached construction), was more so on this day, than she had ever felt it before.
Edith was richly dressed, for she and Mr. Dombey were engaged in the evening to some large assembly, and the dinner-hour that day was late. She did not appear until they were seated at table, when Mr. Carker rose and led her to her chair. Beautiful and lustrous as she was(inversion), there was that in her face an air which seemed to separate her hopelessly from Florence(simile), and from everyone, for ever more. And yet, for an instant, Florence saw a beam of kindness (metaphor) in her eyes, when they were turned on her, that made the distance to which she had withdrawn herself, a greater cause of sorrow and regret (metaphor) than ever. There was very little said at dinner. Florence heard her father speak to Mr. Carker sometimes on business matters, and heard him softly reply, but she paid little attention to what they said, and only wished the dinner at an end. When the dessert was placed in on dinner table, and they were left alone, with no servant in attendance, Mr. Dombey, who had been several times clearing his throat in a manner that augured no good (detached constraction), said-
“Mrs. Dombey, you know, I suppose, that I have instructed the housekeeper that there will be some company to dinner here tomorrow.”
“I do not dine at home,” she answered.
“Not a large party,” pursued Mr. Dombey, with an indifferent assumption of not having heard her; “merely some twelve or fourteen. My sister, Major Bagstock, and some others whom you know but slightly.”