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Descriptive of an affecting Interview between Mr. Samuel Weller and a Family Party. Mr. Pickwick mak

           Helookedlessmiserablethanbefore,beingcladinahalf-wornsuitofclothes,which,withMr.Pickwick’sassistance,hadbeenreleasedfromthepawnbroker’s.Heworecleanlinentoo,andhadhadhishaircut.Hewasverypaleandthin,however;andashecreptslowlyup,leaningonastick,itwaseasytoseethathehadsufferedseverelyfromillnessandwant,andwasstillveryweak.HetookoffhishatasMr.Pickwicksalutedhim,andseemedmuchhumbledandabashedatthesightofSamWeller.

           Followingcloseathisheels,cameMr.JobTrotter,inthecatalogueofwhosevices,wantoffaithandattachmenttohiscompanioncouldatalleventsfindnoplace.Hewasstillraggedandsqualid,buthisfacewasnotquitesohollowasonhisfirstmeetingwithMr.Pickwick,afewdaysbefore.Ashetookoffhishattoourbenevolentoldfriend,hemurmuredsomebrokenexpressionsofgratitude,andmutteredsomethingabouthavingbeensavedfromstarving.

           ‘Well,well,’saidMr.Pickwick,impatientlyinterruptinghim,‘youcanfollowwithSam.Iwanttospeaktoyou,Mr.Jingle.Canyouwalkwithouthisarm?’

           ‘Certainly,sirallreadynottoofastlegsshakyheadqueerroundandroundearthquakysortoffeelingvery.’

           ‘Here,givemeyourarm,’saidMr.Pickwick.

           ‘No,no,’repliedJingle;‘won’tindeedrathernot.’

           ‘Nonsense,’saidMr.Pickwick;‘leanuponme,Idesire,Sir.

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Roboto Lora
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