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PinkMonkey.com-Nicholas Nickelby by Charles Dickens




767

tone bespeaking an exquisite relish of the sally, which no suffering
could diminish.

‘You remember the night of our first tea-drinking?’ said
Nicholas.

‘Shall I e’er forget it, mun?’ replied John Browdie.
‘He was a desperate fellow that night though, was he not, Mrs
Browdie?’ said Nicholas. ‘Quite a monster!’

‘If you had only heard him as we were going home, Mr
Nickleby, you’d have said so indeed,’ returned the bride. ‘I never
was so frightened in all my life.’

‘Coom, coom,’ said John, with a broad grin; ‘thou know’st
betther than thot, Tilly.’

‘So I was,’ replied Mrs Browdie. ‘I almost made up my mind
never to speak to you again.’

‘A’most!’ said John, with a broader grin than the last. ‘A’most
made up her mind! And she wur coaxin’, and coaxin’, and
wheedlin’, and wheedlin’ a’ the blessed wa’. “Wa’at didst thou let
yon chap mak’ oop tiv’ee for?” says I. “I deedn’t, John,” says she, a
squeedgin my arm. “You deedn’t?” says I. “Noa,” says she, a
squeedgin of me agean.’

‘Lor, John!’ interposed his pretty wife, colouring very much.
‘How can you talk such nonsense? As if I should have dreamt of
such a thing!’

‘I dinnot know whether thou’d ever dreamt of it, though I think
that’s loike eneaf, mind,’ retorted John; ‘but thou didst it. “Ye’re a
feeckle, changeable weathercock, lass,” says I. “Not feeckle, John,”
says she. “Yes,” says I, “feeckle, dom’d feeckle. Dinnot tell me thou
bean’t, efther yon chap at schoolmeasther’s,” says I. “Him!” says
she, quite screeching. “Ah! him!” says I. “Why, John,” says she--


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PinkMonkey.com-Nicholas Nickelby by Charles Dickens



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