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Book The Second - Reaping | Charles Dickens | |
Chapter I - Effects In The Bank |
Page 7 of 9 |
'I believe, sir,' quoth Mrs. Sparsit, 'you wished to see me.' 'I beg your pardon,' he said, turning and removing his hat; 'pray excuse me.' 'Humph!' thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. 'Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes.' All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way - like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water - merely in dipping down and coming up again. 'Please to be seated, sir,' said Mrs. Sparsit. 'Thank you. Allow me.' He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. 'I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage - very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van - and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's always as black as this?' 'In general much blacker,' returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. 'Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?' 'No, sir,' returned Mrs. Sparsit. 'It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be - before I became a widow - to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler.' 'Beg your pardon, really!' said the stranger. 'Was - ?' Mrs. Sparsit repeated, 'A Powler.' 'Powler Family,' said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. 'You must be very much bored here?' was the inference he drew from the communication. 'I am the servant of circumstances, sir,' said Mrs. Sparsit, 'and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life.' |
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Hard Times Charles Dickens |
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