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    Daily online The tide of the love

      Daily online

    ornamental garments with which I had been decorated on the first

    eyes met mine with their own beautiful frankness, and there was

    her head ‘If I felt less, I could do more You don’t feel like me,

    of nose, and a way of carrying his head on one side, as if it were a

    breaking down again

    Poor Traddles! In a tight sky-blue suit that made his arms and

    evening flew away on gossamer-wings The time was at hand

    Nobody wanted him Miss Mills was at home Miss Mills would do

    ‘No?’ said Steerforth

    been lying, for the most part, with my head upon the sill, by turns

    once or twice when Mr Quinion was talking, he looked at Mr

    Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

    distance, with my notebook on my knee, fagging after him with all

    meet Mr Jack Maldon, who was always surprised to see us

    I don’t know whether she had kept it there ever since—and then

    another earthquake of which I became the sport, before I had

    unexpectedly, and in the bitterness of my spirit cursing Jip, I fell

    ‘Do you really mean that?’ said I He was so composed, that I

    house, you know’

    than any of us had yet assumed: ‘She is as virtuous as she is pretty

    A word is not saved.

    these days He hasn’t been able to draw it up yet, without

    making little treats for the fishermen at Mr Peggotty’s house of

        

    Copyright Daily online The tide of the love