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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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

In the morning, between my breakfast and the
paper, I could spare them another hour; in the evening before dinner
say another. Three hours a day. They might pay themselves in calls, with
interest, in twelve months. I think I shall propose it to them. Ah, my
centaur, are you there?'
'Here I am,' replied Hugh, striding in, followed by a dog, as rough and
sullen as himself; 'and trouble enough I've had to get here. What do you
ask me to come for, and keep me out when I DO come?'
'My good fellow,' returned the other, raising his head a little from the
cushion and carelessly surveying him from top to toe, 'I am delighted to
see you, and to have, in your being here, the very best proof that you
are not kept out. How are you?'
'I'm well enough,' said Hugh impatiently.
'You look a perfect marvel of health. Sit down.'
'I'd rather stand,' said Hugh.
'Please yourself my good fellow,' returned Mr Chester rising, slowly
pulling off the loose robe he wore, and sitting down before the
dressing-glass. 'Please yourself by all means.'
Having said this in the politest and blandest tone possible, he went on
dressing, and took no further notice of his guest, who stood in the same
spot as uncertain what to do next, eyeing him sulkily from time to time.


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