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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"Nicholas Nickleby"

We used to keep such hours! Twelve, one, two, three
o'clock was nothing to us. Balls, dinners, card-parties! Never were such
rakes as the people about where we used to live. I often think now, I
am sure, that how we ever could go through with it is quite astonishing,
and that is just the evil of having a large connection and being a great
deal sought after, which I would recommend all young married people
steadily to resist; though of course, and it's perfectly clear, and a
very happy thing too, I think, that very few young married people can
be exposed to such temptations. There was one family in particular,
that used to live about a mile from us--not straight down the road, but
turning sharp off to the left by the turnpike where the Plymouth mail
ran over the donkey--that were quite extraordinary people for giving
the most extravagant parties, with artificial flowers and champagne, and
variegated lamps, and, in short, every delicacy of eating and drinking
that the most singular epicure could possibly require. I don't think
that there ever were such people as those Peltiroguses. You remember the
Peltiroguses, Kate?'
Kate saw that for the ease and comfort of the visitors it was high time
to stay this flood of recollection, so answered that she entertained of
the Peltiroguses a most vivid and distinct remembrance; and then said
that Mr Browdie had half promised, early in the evening, that he would
sing a Yorkshire song, and that she was most impatient that he should
redeem his promise, because she was sure it would afford her mama more
amusement and pleasure than it was possible to express.


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