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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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

No breaking of
patroles. How dare you come out of the door, sir, without leave? You're
trying to get away, sir, are you, and to make a traitor of yourself
again? What do you mean, sir?'
'Let me go, father,' said Joe, imploringly, as he marked the smile upon
their visitor's face, and observed the pleasure his disgrace afforded
him. 'This is too bad. Who wants to get away?'
'Who wants to get away!' cried John, shaking him. 'Why you do, sir,
you do. You're the boy, sir,' added John, collaring with one band, and
aiding the effect of a farewell bow to the visitor with the other,
'that wants to sneak into houses, and stir up differences between noble
gentlemen and their sons, are you, eh? Hold your tongue, sir.'
Joe made no effort to reply. It was the crowning circumstance of his
degradation. He extricated himself from his father's grasp, darted an
angry look at the departing guest, and returned into the house.
'But for her,' thought Joe, as he threw his arms upon a table in the
common room, and laid his head upon them, 'but for Dolly, who I couldn't
bear should think me the rascal they would make me out to be if I ran
away, this house and I should part to-night.


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