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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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


Having brought this admonition to an end--upon which, to say the truth,
the young gentleman for whose benefit it was designed, bestowed little
or no heed, having to all appearance his faculties absorbed in the
contemplation of the sweetmeats,--Miss Miggs signified to the company in
general that they were not to be uneasy, for she would soon return; and,
with her nephew's aid, prepared to bear her wardrobe up the staircase.
'My dear,' said the locksmith to his wife. 'Do you desire this?'
'I desire it!' she answered. 'I am astonished--I am amazed--at her
audacity. Let her leave the house this moment.'
Miggs, hearing this, let her end of the box fall heavily to the floor,
gave a very loud sniff, crossed her arms, screwed down the corners of
her mouth, and cried, in an ascending scale, 'Ho, good gracious!' three
distinct times.
'You hear what your mistress says, my love,' remarked the locksmith.
'You had better go, I think. Stay; take this with you, for the sake of
old service.'
Miss Miggs clutched the bank-note he took from his pocket-book and held
out to her; deposited it in a small, red leather purse; put the purse
in her pocket (displaying, as she did so, a considerable portion of some
under-garment, made of flannel, and more black cotton stocking than is
commonly seen in public); and, tossing her head, as she looked at Mrs
Varden, repeated--
'Ho, good gracious!'
'I think you said that once before, my dear,' observed the locksmith.


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