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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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

Chocolate, perhaps, you don't relish? Well!
it IS an acquired taste, no doubt.'
'Sir John,' said Gabriel, who had acknowledged with a bow the invitation
to be seated, but had not availed himself of it. 'Sir John'--he
dropped his voice and drew nearer to the bed--'I am just now come from
Newgate--'
'Good Gad!' cried Sir John, hastily sitting up in bed; 'from Newgate,
Mr Varden! How could you be so very imprudent as to come from Newgate!
Newgate, where there are jail-fevers, and ragged people, and bare-footed
men and women, and a thousand horrors! Peak, bring the camphor, quick!
Heaven and earth, Mr Varden, my dear, good soul, how COULD you come from
Newgate?'
Gabriel returned no answer, but looked on in silence while Peak (who had
entered with the hot chocolate) ran to a drawer, and returning with
a bottle, sprinkled his master's dressing-gown and the bedding; and
besides moistening the locksmith himself, plentifully, described a
circle round about him on the carpet. When he had done this, he again
retired; and Sir John, reclining in an easy attitude upon his pillow,
once more turned a smiling face towards his visitor.
'You will forgive me, Mr Varden, I am sure, for being at first a little
sensitive both on your account and my own.


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