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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"Nicholas Nickleby"


'Mama!' cried Kate, really terrified for the moment, 'why do you stop,
why do you lose an instant? Mama, pray come in!'
'Kate, my dear,' returned her mother, still holding back, 'how can you
be so foolish? I'm ashamed of you. How do you suppose you are ever to
get through life, if you're such a coward as this? What do you want,
sir?' said Mrs Nickleby, addressing the intruder with a sort of
simpering displeasure. 'How dare you look into this garden?'
'Queen of my soul,' replied the stranger, folding his hands together,
'this goblet sip!'
'Nonsense, sir,' said Mrs Nickleby. 'Kate, my love, pray be quiet.'
'Won't you sip the goblet?' urged the stranger, with his head
imploringly on one side, and his right hand on his breast. 'Oh, do sip
the goblet!'
'I shall not consent to do anything of the kind, sir,' said Mrs
Nickleby. 'Pray, begone.'
'Why is it,' said the old gentleman, coming up a step higher, and
leaning his elbows on the wall, with as much complacency as if he were
looking out of window, 'why is it that beauty is always obdurate,
even when admiration is as honourable and respectful as mine?' Here he
smiled, kissed his hand, and made several low bows.


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