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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

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

You did. I see
denial in your looks,' he cried, abruptly pointing in his face, and
stepping back, 'and denial is a lie!'
He had his hand upon his sword; but the knight, with a contemptuous
smile, replied to him as coldly as before.
'You will take notice, sir--if you can discriminate sufficiently--that I
have taken the trouble to deny nothing. Your discernment is hardly fine
enough for the perusal of faces, not of a kind as coarse as your speech;
nor has it ever been, that I remember; or, in one face that I could
name, you would have read indifference, not to say disgust, somewhat
sooner than you did. I speak of a long time ago,--but you understand
me.'
'Disguise it as you will, you mean denial. Denial explicit or reserved,
expressed or left to be inferred, is still a lie. You say you don't
deny. Do you admit?'
'You yourself,' returned Sir John, suffering the current of his
speech to flow as smoothly as if it had been stemmed by no one word of
interruption, 'publicly proclaimed the character of the gentleman in
question (I think it was in Westminster Hall) in terms which relieve me
from the necessity of making any further allusion to him. You may
have been warranted; you may not have been; I can't say.


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