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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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


'Oh!' said John, looking in; 'here's another Protestant.'
'Some other room, John,' cried Gashford in his blandest voice. 'I am
engaged just now.'
But John had brought this new visitor to the door, and he walked
in unbidden, as the words were uttered; giving to view the form and
features, rough attire, and reckless air, of Hugh.

Chapter 38

The secretary put his hand before his eyes to shade them from the glare
of the lamp, and for some moments looked at Hugh with a frowning brow,
as if he remembered to have seen him lately, but could not call to mind
where, or on what occasion. His uncertainty was very brief, for before
Hugh had spoken a word, he said, as his countenance cleared up:
'Ay, ay, I recollect. It's quite right, John, you needn't wait. Don't
go, Dennis.'
'Your servant, master,' said Hugh, as Grueby disappeared.
'Yours, friend,' returned the secretary in his smoothest manner. 'What
brings YOU here? We left nothing behind us, I hope?'
Hugh gave a short laugh, and thrusting his hand into his breast,
produced one of the handbills, soiled and dirty from lying out of doors
all night, which he laid upon the secretary's desk after flattening it
upon his knee, and smoothing out the wrinkles with his heavy palm.


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