The more he thought of all this,
the more it perplexed him, and the more anxious he became to know who
and what she was. 'I should have known her among ten thousand,' thought
Nicholas. And with that he walked up and down the room, and recalling
her face and figure (of which he had a peculiarly vivid remembrance),
discarded all other subjects of reflection and dwelt upon that alone.
At length Tim Linkinwater came back--provokingly cool, and with papers
in his hand, and a pen in his mouth, as if nothing had happened.
'Is she quite recovered?' said Nicholas, impetuously.
'Who?' returned Tim Linkinwater.
'Who!' repeated Nicholas. 'The young lady.'
'What do you make, Mr Nickleby,' said Tim, taking his pen out of his
mouth, 'what do you make of four hundred and twenty-seven times three
thousand two hundred and thirty-eight?'
'Nay,' returned Nicholas, 'what do you make of my question first? I
asked you--'
'About the young lady,' said Tim Linkinwater, putting on his spectacles.
'To be sure. Yes. Oh! she's very well.'
'Very well, is she?' returned Nicholas.
'Very well,' replied Mr Linkinwater, gravely.
Pages:
911
912
913
914
915
916
917
918
919
920
921
922
923
924
925
926
927
928
929
930
931
932
933
934
935