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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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


'And now, at last,' cried Dolly, trembling with the fervour of her
speech, 'if you were sick, and shattered in your every limb; if you were
ailing, weak, and sorrowful; if, instead of being what you are, you were
in everybody's eyes but mine the wreck and ruin of a man; I would be
your wife, dear love, with greater pride and joy, than if you were the
stateliest lord in England!'
'What have I done,' cried Joe, 'what have I done to meet with this
reward?'
'You have taught me,' said Dolly, raising her pretty face to his, 'to
know myself, and your worth; to be something better than I was; to be
more deserving of your true and manly nature. In years to come, dear
Joe, you shall find that you have done so; for I will be, not only
now, when we are young and full of hope, but when we have grown old and
weary, your patient, gentle, never-tiring wife. I will never know a wish
or care beyond our home and you, and I will always study how to please
you with my best affection and my most devoted love. I will: indeed I
will!'
Joe could only repeat his former eloquence--but it was very much to the
purpose.
'They know of this, at home,' said Dolly. 'For your sake, I would leave
even them; but they know it, and are glad of it, and are as proud of you
as I am, and as full of gratitude.


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