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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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


'Let him in,' said Sir John. 'My good fellow,' he added, when the door
was opened, 'how come you to intrude yourself in this extraordinary
manner upon the privacy of a gentleman? How can you be so wholly
destitute of self-respect as to be guilty of such remarkable
ill-breeding?'
'My business, Sir John, is not of a common kind, I do assure you,'
returned the person he addressed. 'If I have taken any uncommon course
to get admission to you, I hope I shall be pardoned on that account.'
'Well! we shall see; we shall see,' returned Sir John, whose face
cleared up when he saw who it was, and whose prepossessing smile was now
restored. 'I am sure we have met before,' he added in his winning tone,
'but really I forget your name?'
'My name is Gabriel Varden, sir.'
'Varden, of course, Varden,' returned Sir John, tapping his forehead.
'Dear me, how very defective my memory becomes! Varden to be sure--Mr
Varden the locksmith. You have a charming wife, Mr Varden, and a most
beautiful daughter. They are well?'
Gabriel thanked him, and said they were.
'I rejoice to hear it,' said Sir John. 'Commend me to them when you
return, and say that I wished I were fortunate enough to convey, myself,
the salute which I entrust you to deliver.


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