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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"Nicholas Nickleby"


This turmoil, instead of quickly subsiding after the first outburst,
(as turmoils not unfrequently do, whether in taverns, legislative
assemblies, or elsewhere,) into a mere grumbling and growling squabble,
increased every moment; and although the whole din appeared to be
raised by but one pair of lungs, yet that one pair was of so powerful
a quality, and repeated such words as 'scoundrel,' 'rascal,' 'insolent
puppy,' and a variety of expletives no less flattering to the party
addressed, with such great relish and strength of tone, that a dozen
voices raised in concert under any ordinary circumstances would have
made far less uproar and created much smaller consternation.
'Why, what's the matter?' said Nicholas, moving hastily towards the
door.
John Browdie was striding in the same direction when Mrs Browdie turned
pale, and, leaning back in her chair, requested him with a faint voice
to take notice, that if he ran into any danger it was her intention to
fall into hysterics immediately, and that the consequences might be more
serious than he thought for. John looked rather disconcerted by this
intelligence, though there was a lurking grin on his face at the same
time; but, being quite unable to keep out of the fray, he compromised
the matter by tucking his wife's arm under his own, and, thus
accompanied, following Nicholas downstairs with all speed.


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