while I have got it fresh I trip over a word Mr Murdstone looks

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    while I have got it fresh I trip over a word Mr Murdstone looks

    something very fair and honest about that!’

    him, and opens his mouth no more

    ‘Well, ma’am, he died of drink,’ said Mrs Crupp, in confidence

    It was no fancy of mine about his hands, I observed; for he

    with the little eyes

    that I should sometimes come over on a Saturday, and that he

    exclamations off like minute guns

    Parliament in Buckingham Street, after I came home from the

    perfection, you are, Steerforth If I understand any noddle in the

    before he left the house that night

    bright buttons, too, were of the largest size Rendered complete by

    all she had was mine, and that I would have gone to her for

    numbers—at the expiration of a period not exceeding six lunar

    feeling it pull and tug at his hand He never looked so serene as he

    dinner The quantity of walking exercise I took, was not in this

    inverted tumblers sustaining lemons, and two of those

    his wind by the aid of his pipe

    ‘She is very dangerously ill,’ she added

    to the public-house where the carrier put up, and I promised, on

    Therefore, if it had depended upon me to touch the prevailing

    thought it small, or inconvenient, or lonely; but never having been

    David Copperfield

    I saw the door move, and the snow drift in I saw it move a little

    Charles’s head into my head, that the man first came I was

    Lion and something else that I have forgotten Once, I remember

    met me

    Miss Murdstone until then—I drew back my hand from the lock,

        

    Copyright while I have got it fresh I trip over a word Mr Murdstone looks