Read the following passage carefully.
She was such a sharp little lady, and used to sit with her hands folded in each other, looking so very watchful while she talked to me that perhaps I found that ...
... rather irksome. Or perhaps it was her being so upright and trim; though I don't think it was that, because I thought that quaintly pleasant. Nor can it have been the general expression of her face, which was very sparkling and pretty for an old lady. I don't know what it was. Or at least if I do, now, I thought I did not then. Or at least—but it don't matter.
(from Bleak House, Chapter XXX, by Charles Dickens)
What is the point of view of this passage?
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