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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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

Let us be moral, Ned, or we are nothing.
Even if one could set that objection aside, which is impossible, we come
to another which is quite conclusive. The very idea of marrying a girl
whose father was killed, like meat! Good God, Ned, how disagreeable!
Consider the impossibility of having any respect for your father-in-law
under such unpleasant circumstances--think of his having been "viewed"
by jurors, and "sat upon" by coroners, and of his very doubtful position
in the family ever afterwards. It seems to me such an indelicate sort
of thing that I really think the girl ought to have been put to death by
the state to prevent its happening. But I tease you perhaps. You would
rather be alone? My dear Ned, most willingly. God bless you. I shall
be going out presently, but we shall meet to-night, or if not to-night,
certainly to-morrow. Take care of yourself in the mean time, for both
our sakes. You are a person of great consequence to me, Ned--of vast
consequence indeed. God bless you!'
With these words, the father, who had been arranging his cravat in
the glass, while he uttered them in a disconnected careless manner,
withdrew, humming a tune as he went. The son, who had appeared so lost
in thought as not to hear or understand them, remained quite still and
silent.


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