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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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


But when Mr Willet appeared--old John himself--so heavy-headed and
obstinate, and with such a double chin as the liveliest imagination
could never in its boldest flights have conjured up in all its vast
proportions--then she stood corrected, and unwillingly admitted to
herself that she was broad awake.
And Joe had lost an arm--he--that well-made, handsome, gallant fellow!
As Dolly glanced towards him, and thought of the pain he must have
suffered, and the far-off places in which he had been wandering, and
wondered who had been his nurse, and hoped that whoever it was, she
had been as kind and gentle and considerate as she would have been,
the tears came rising to her bright eyes, one by one, little by little,
until she could keep them back no longer, and so before them all, wept
bitterly.
'We are all safe now, Dolly,' said her father, kindly. 'We shall not be
separated any more. Cheer up, my love, cheer up!'
The locksmith's wife knew better perhaps, than he, what ailed her
daughter. But Mrs Varden being quite an altered woman--for the riots had
done that good--added her word to his, and comforted her with similar
representations.
'Mayhap,' said Mr Willet, senior, looking round upon the company, 'she's
hungry.


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