Works, Том 13R. Worthington, 1884 |
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answered asked Barnaby Barnaby Rudge Bazzard better Billickin Bloomsbury Square breath called Chester Chigwell Cloisterham corner cried Hugh Crisparkle crowd dark Datchery dear Dennis Dolly door Durdles Edwin Drood eyes face father fellow fire Furnival's Inn Gabriel gentleman glancing Grewgious hand hangman Haredale head hear heard heart Helena hope Jasper John Willet knew lady light locksmith looked Lord George Lord George Gordon master Maypole mean mind Minor Canon Miss Dolly Miss Miggs Miss Twinkleton Muster Gashford never Neville night passed pause poor rejoined replied returned rioters Rosa round Sapsea seemed shaking silence Sir John smile speak stairs Staple Inn stood stopped street strong sure talk Tappertit tell thing thought to-night told Tom Cobb took turned Varden voice walked whispered window word young
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Стр. 294 - So he took another pinch of snuff, and went to bed. CHAPTER XLI FROM the workshop of the Golden Key, there issued forth a tinkling sound, so merry and good-humoured, that it suggested the idea of some one working blithely, and made quite pleasant music. No man who hammered on at a dull monotonous duty, could have brought such cheerful notes from steel and iron; none but a chirping, healthy, honest-hearted fellow, who made the best of everything, and felt kindly towards everybody, could have done...
Стр. 3 - While I was yet inconsolable for his loss, another friend of mine in Yorkshire discovered an older and more gifted raven at a village public-house, which he prevailed upon the landlord to part with for a consideration, and sent up to me. The first act of this sage...
Стр. 294 - ... radiant with exercise and gladness, his sleeves turned up, his wig pushed off his shining forehead — the easiest, freest, happiest man in all the world. Beside him sat a sleek cat, purring and winking in the light, and falling every now and then into an idle cloze, as from excess of comfort. Toby looked on from a tall bench hard by; one beaming smile, from his broad nut-brown face down to the slack-baked buckles in his shoes.
Стр. 496 - ... and drank until they died. While some stooped with their lips to the brink and never raised their heads again, others sprang up from their fiery draught, and danced, half in a mad triumph, and half in the agony of suffocation, until they fell, and steeped their corpses in the liquor that had killed them.
Стр. 496 - The gutters of the street, and every crack and fissure in the stones, ran with scorching spirit, which being dammed up by busy hands, overflowed the road and pavement, and formed a great pool, into which the people dropped down dead by dozens.
Стр. 294 - Who but the locksmith could have made such music ? A gleam of sun shining through the unsashed window, and checkering the dark workshop with a broad patch of light, fell full upon him, as though attracted by his sunny heart.