I must have saffron to color the warden pies; mace; dates, none -- that's out of my note; nutmegs, seven; a race or two of ginger, but that I may beg; four pounds of prunes, and as many of raisins o' th' sun.
If lovers spake, it was now all by lookes, None deign’d or durst be trouchman to their mind, Paper was barr’d, and penne, and inke, and bookes,
‘Sissy is not a name,’ said Mr. Gradgrind. ‘Don’t call yourself Sissy. Call yourself Cecilia.’ ‘It’s father as calls me Sissy, sir,’ returned the young girl in a trembling voice, and with another curtsey.
And what mean these outbursts and objurgations of his, you will ask; these suggestions, furtive, rhapsodical, mystical; this furibund allegro about Money, Mediums, and Bohemia; …
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DiQt
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