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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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

'We know nothing about coaches here, sir,' John would say,
if any unlucky stranger made inquiry touching the offensive vehicles;
'we don't book for 'em; we'd rather not; they're more trouble than
they're worth, with their noise and rattle. If you like to wait for 'em
you can; but we don't know anything about 'em; they may call and they
may not--there's a carrier--he was looked upon as quite good enough for
us, when I was a boy.'
She dropped her veil as Hugh climbed up, and while he hung behind, and
talked to Barnaby in whispers. But neither he nor any other person
spoke to her, or noticed her, or had any curiosity about her; and so, an
alien, she visited and left the village where she had been born, and had
lived a merry child, a comely girl, a happy wife--where she had known
all her enjoyment of life, and had entered on its hardest sorrows.

Chapter 26

'And you're not surprised to hear this, Varden?' said Mr Haredale.
'Well! You and she have always been the best friends, and you should
understand her if anybody does.'
'I ask your pardon, sir,' rejoined the locksmith. 'I didn't say I
understood her. I wouldn't have the presumption to say that of any
woman.


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