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PinkMonkey.com-Nicholas Nickelby by Charles Dickens




152

more for friends he wished to come and sit with him, but began to
see faces round his bed that came from home; he said they smiled,
and talked to him; and he died at last lifting his head to kiss them.
Do you hear?’

‘Yes, yes,’ rejoined Nicholas.
‘What faces will smile on me when I die!’ cried his companion,
shivering. ‘Who will talk to me in those long nights! They cannot
come from home; they would frighten me, if they did, for I don’t
know what it is, and shouldn’t know them. Pain and fear, pain and
fear for me, alive or dead. No hope, no hope!’

The bell rang to bed: and the boy, subsiding at the sound into
his usual listless state, crept away as if anxious to avoid notice. It
was with a heavy heart that Nicholas soon afterwards--no, not
retired; there was no retirement there--followed--to his dirty and
crowded dormitory.


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