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PinkMonkey.com-Nicholas Nickelby by Charles Dickens




1021

‘Call it?’ repeated Nicholas.
‘Ah!’ returned his mother, ‘what style of nose? What order of
architecture, if one may say so. I am not very learned in noses. Do
you call it a Roman or a Grecian?’

‘Upon my word, mother,’ said Nicholas, laughing, ‘as well as I
remember, I should call it a kind of Composite, or mixed nose. But
I have no very strong recollection on the subject. If it will afford
you any gratification, I’ll observe it more closely, and let you
know.’

‘I wish you would, my dear,’ said Mrs Nickleby, with an earnest
look.

‘Very well,’ returned Nicholas. ‘I will.’
Nicholas returned to the perusal of the book he had been
reading, when the dialogue had gone thus far. Mrs Nickleby, after
stopping a little for consideration, resumed.

‘He is very much attached to you, Nicholas, my dear.’
Nicholas laughingly said, as he closed his book, that he was glad
to hear it, and observed that his mother seemed deep in their new
friend’s confidence already.

‘Hem!’ said Mrs Nickleby. ‘I don’t know about that, my dear,
but I think it is very necessary that somebody should be in his
confidence; highly necessary.’

Elated by a look of curiosity from her son, and the
consciousness of possessing a great secret, all to herself, Mrs
Nickleby went on with great animation:

‘I am sure, my dear Nicholas, how you can have failed to notice
it, is, to me, quite extraordinary; though I don’t know why I should
say that, either, because, of course, as far as it goes, and to a
certain extent, there is a great deal in this sort of thing, especially


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