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appeared asked Becky began Bridge Brothers brought called Captain chambers chapel CHAPTER charcoal church closed Club Cock Colonel comes Court crowd dear Dickens dinner door doubt Evins eyes face famous fellow fire Fleet Street Friars front Garden George give Grey Friars hand happened head hear heard kind known Lady later letter light lived London look Lord loved Master mind morning move narrow never Newcome night officer once passed Pendennis person poor reached reading round says seen side sight sketch Square standing Staple steps Steyne stood Street talk Tavern taxi Temple Thackeray Thackeray's thing Thomas thought to-day told took voice walked walls window wondering writing young
Page 37 - I have been young, and now am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.
Page 158 - I received one morning a message from poor Goldsmith that he was in great distress, and, as it was not in his power to come to me, begging that I would come to him as soon as possible. I sent him a guinea, and promised to come to him directly. I accordingly went as soon as I was dressed, and found that his landlady had arrested him for his rent, at which he was in a violent passion. I perceived that he had already changed my guinea, and had got a bottle of Madeira and a glass before him. I put the...
Page 105 - A friend congratulated him once on that touch in 'Vanity Fair' in which Becky admires her husband when he is giving Steyne the punishment which ruins her for life. 104 IN THACKERAY'S LONDON 'Well,' he said, 'when I wrote that sentence, I slapped my fist on the table, and said, "That is a touch of genius.
Page 101 - Rawdon left her and walked home rapidly. It was nine o'clock at night. He ran across the streets, and the great squares of Vanity Fair, and at length came up breathless opposite his own house. He started back and fell against the railings, trembling as he looked up. The drawing-room windows were blazing with light. She had said that she was in bed and ill.
Page 161 - ... which he might be extricated. He then told me that he had a novel ready for the press, which he produced to me. I looked into it, and saw its merit ; told the landlady I should soon return, and having gone to a bookseller, sold it for sixty pounds. I brought Goldsmith the money, and he discharged his rent, not without rating his landlady in a high tone for having used him so ill.
Page 21 - He is calling for you again, dear lady," she said, going up to Madame de Florae, who was still kneeling; " and just now he said he wanted Pendennis to take care of his boy. He will not know you." She hid her tears as she spoke. She went into the room where Clive was at the bed's foot; the old man within it talked on rapidly for...
Page 103 - You innocent! Why, every trinket you have on your body is paid for by me. I have given you thousands of pounds which this fellow has spent, and for which he has sold you. Innocent, by—! You're as innocent as your mother, the balletgirl, and your husband the bully. Don't think to frighten me as you have done others. Make way, sir, and let me pass"; and Lord Steyne seized up his hat, and, with flame in his eyes, and looking his enemy fiercely in the face, marched upon him, never for a moment doubting...
Page 101 - He was in the ball dress in which he had been captured the night before. He went silently up the stairs, leaning against the banisters at the stairhead. Nobody was stirring in the house besides: all the servants had been sent away. Rawdon heard laughter within — laughter and singing. Becky was singing a snatch of the song of the night before; a hoarse voice shouted "Brava! Brava!
Page 103 - Throw them down," he said, and she dropped them. He tore the diamond ornament out of her breast and flung it at Lord Steyne. It cut him on his bald forehead. Steyne wore the scar to his dying day. "Come upstairs," Rawdon said to his wife. "Don't kill me, Rawdon," she said. He laughed savagely. — "I want to see if that man lies about the money as he has about me. Has he given you any?" "No," said Rebecca, "that is " "Give me your keys," Rawdon answered, and they went out together.
Page 189 - Sir Roger de Coverley walking in the Temple Garden, and discoursing with Mr. Spectator about the beauties in hoops and patches who are sauntering over the grass, is just as lively a figure to me as old Samuel Johnson rolling through the fog with the Scotch gentleman at his heels on their way to Dr. Goldsmith's chambers in Brick Court ; or Harry Fielding, with inked ruffles and a wet towel round his head, dashing off articles at midnight for the Covent Garden Journal, while the printer's boy is asleep...