Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens
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page 75 of 1288 (05%)
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'Good morning to YOU, sir.'
'Do you remember me, then?' asked his new acquaintance, stopping in his amble, one-sided, before the stall, and speaking in a pounding way, though with great good-humour. 'I have noticed you go past our house, sir, several times in the course of the last week or so.' 'Our house,' repeated the other. 'Meaning--?' 'Yes,' said Mr Wegg, nodding, as the other pointed the clumsy forefinger of his right glove at the corner house. 'Oh! Now, what,' pursued the old fellow, in an inquisitive manner, carrying his knotted stick in his left arm as if it were a baby, 'what do they allow you now?' 'It's job work that I do for our house,' returned Silas, drily, and with reticence; 'it's not yet brought to an exact allowance.' 'Oh! It's not yet brought to an exact allowance? No! It's not yet brought to an exact allowance. Oh!--Morning, morning, morning!' 'Appears to be rather a cracked old cock,' thought Silas, qualifying his former good opinion, as the other ambled off. But, in a moment he was back again with the question: 'How did you get your wooden leg?' |
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