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And, you, are the pale young gentleman!
Drummle, an old looking young man of a heavy order of architecture, was whistling
Startop, younger in years and appearance, was reading and holding his head, as if he thought himself in danger of exploding it with too strong a charge of knowledge.
By degrees, Wemmick got dryer and harder as we went along, and his mouth tightened into a post office again.
I don't mean to imply that he won't, but it might make you hold your tongue about us and our money, I should think.
You should think! Oh, Lord!
Well, he'll be paid
Joe, how are you, Joe?
Pip, how AIR you, Pip?
Still, the coincidence of our being together on the coach was sufficiently strange to fill me with a dread that some other coincidence might at any moment connect me, in his hearing, with my name.
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