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    A mixed fiddlestick returned my aunt You claim to have one

    Master Copperfield, I should think you would, certainly!’ over and

    pretty boy! My poor child!’ Then she kissed me more and more,

    Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

    unhappy—about the failure, I mean, for I was always unhappy

    She seemed to delight in teasing me, which was a change in her

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    surrounded, dim ages ago, by the same faces, objects, and

    ‘Trotwood,’ says Agnes, one day after dinner ‘Who do you think

    bookstall, who lived in a little house behind it, used to get tipsy

    ‘My dear,’ said Mr Omer, ‘I don’t say it’s the case with you,’

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    you, too, with the greatest readiness That first unlucky

    walking in all night

    of time’

    ‘Of all things in the world, aunt, I should like it best!’

    glorified instrument, resembling a guitar That I was lost in

    Silly girl. Then he sighed, set off by micro, clothes lying on her side, deliberately face. Go to sleep, there are a lot of military affairs to say what I do want to help me, I still involved

    through the town, that I had half a mind to nod to my old enemy

    ‘Lord bless my soul!’ he exclaimed, ‘I didn’t know they were

    build my castles in the air at a living mother’s side

    All this time, Mr Micawber had not known me in the least,

    Spenlow’s letters to throw in the fire; and although our future

    everybody tumbling over Jip’s pagoda, which is much too big for

    There was no one in the quaint old drawing-room, though it

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    dropped—as a man frequently does on these occasions—and from

        

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