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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"Nicholas Nickleby"

'
'I can't hear what you say--don't talk to me--it isn't safe--go away--go
away!' returned Gride.
'Come down, I say. Will you come down?' said Ralph fiercely.
'No--o--o--oo,' snarled Gride. He drew in his head; and Ralph, left
standing in the street, could hear the sash closed, as gently and
carefully as it had been opened.
'How is this,' said he, 'that they all fall from me, and shun me like
the plague, these men who have licked the dust from my feet? IS my
day past, and is this indeed the coming on of night? I'll know what it
means! I will, at any cost. I am firmer and more myself, just now, than
I have been these many days.'
Turning from the door, which, in the first transport of his rage, he had
meditated battering upon until Gride's very fears should impel him
to open it, he turned his face towards the city, and working his way
steadily through the crowd which was pouring from it (it was by this
time between five and six o'clock in the afternoon) went straight to the
house of business of the brothers Cheeryble, and putting his head into
the glass case, found Tim Linkinwater alone.
'My name's Nickleby,' said Ralph.


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