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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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

If either of you two gentlemen likes to go out and
see what's the matter, you can. I'm not curious, myself.'
While he spoke the cry drew nearer and nearer, footsteps passed the
window, the latch of the door was raised, it opened, was violently shut
again, and Solomon Daisy, with a lighted lantern in his hand, and the
rain streaming from his disordered dress, dashed into the room.
A more complete picture of terror than the little man presented, it
would be difficult to imagine. The perspiration stood in beads upon his
face, his knees knocked together, his every limb trembled, the power
of articulation was quite gone; and there he stood, panting for breath,
gazing on them with such livid ashy looks, that they were infected with
his fear, though ignorant of its occasion, and, reflecting his dismayed
and horror-stricken visage, stared back again without venturing to
question him; until old John Willet, in a fit of temporary insanity,
made a dive at his cravat, and, seizing him by that portion of his
dress, shook him to and fro until his very teeth appeared to rattle in
his head.
'Tell us what's the matter, sir,' said John, 'or I'll kill you. Tell us
what's the matter, sir, or in another second I'll have your head under
the biler.


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