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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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

'
Here old John precipitately interrupted the speaker, and begged that if
Mr Parkes (who was seated opposite to him and was staring directly over
his head) saw anything, he would have the goodness to mention it. Mr
Parkes apologised, and remarked that he was only listening; to which Mr
Willet angrily retorted, that his listening with that kind of expression
in his face was not agreeable, and that if he couldn't look like other
people, he had better put his pocket-handkerchief over his head.
Mr Parkes with great submission pledged himself to do so, if again
required, and John Willet turning to Solomon desired him to proceed.
After waiting until a violent gust of wind and rain, which seemed to
shake even that sturdy house to its foundation, had passed away, the
little man complied:
'Never tell me that it was my fancy, or that it was any other sound
which I mistook for that I tell you of. I heard the wind whistle through
the arches of the church. I heard the steeple strain and creak. I heard
the rain as it came driving against the walls. I felt the bells shake. I
saw the ropes sway to and fro. And I heard that voice.'
'What did it say?' asked Tom Cobb.
'I don't know what; I don't know that it spoke.


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