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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"Barnaby Rudge: a tale of the Riots of 'eighty"


Hence John, standing with his hand upon the horse's bridle, and
his great eyes on the rider, and with nothing passing to divert his
thoughts, had really got some of these little circumstances into his
brain by the time he was called upon to speak.
'A quaint place this,' said the gentleman--and his voice was as rich as
his dress. 'Are you the landlord?'
'At your service, sir,' replied John Willet.
'You can give my horse good stabling, can you, and me an early dinner (I
am not particular what, so that it be cleanly served), and a decent
room of which there seems to be no lack in this great mansion,' said the
stranger, again running his eyes over the exterior.
'You can have, sir,' returned John with a readiness quite surprising,
'anything you please.'
'It's well I am easily satisfied,' returned the other with a smile,
'or that might prove a hardy pledge, my friend.' And saying so, he
dismounted, with the aid of the block before the door, in a twinkling.
'Halloa there! Hugh!' roared John. 'I ask your pardon, sir, for keeping
you standing in the porch; but my son has gone to town on business, and
the boy being, as I may say, of a kind of use to me, I'm rather put
out when he's away.


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