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And here again, I had great misgivings. I found as prevalent a fashion in the form of the penitence, as I had left outside in the forms of the coats and waistcoats in the windows of the tailors' shops. I found a vast amount of profession, varying very little in character: varying very little (which I thought exceedingly suspicious), even in words. I found a great many foxes, disparaging whole vineyards of inaccessible grapes; but I found very few foxes whom I would have trusted within reach of a bunch. Above all, I found that the most professing men were the greatest objects of interest; and that their conceit, their vanity, their want of excitement,
and their love of deception (which many of them possessed to an almost incredible extent, as their histories showed), all prompted to these professions, and were all gratified by them. ¡¡¡¡However, I heard so repeatedly, in the course of our goings to and fro, of a certain Number Twenty Seven, who was the Favourite, and who really appeared to be a Model Prisoner, that I resolved to suspend my judgement until I should see Twenty Seven. Twenty Eight, I understood, was also a bright particular star; but

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But through all the confusion and lowness of spirits in which we had been, so unexpectedly to me, involved, I plainly discerned that Mr. and Mrs. Micawber and their family were going away from London, and that a parting between us was near at hand. It was in my walk home that night, and in the sleepless hours which followed when I lay in bed, that the thought first occurred to me - though I don't know how it came into my head - which afterwards shaped itself into a settled resolution.
I had grown to be so accustomed to the Micawbers, and had been so intimate with them in their distresses, and was so utterly friendless without them, that the prospect of being thrown upon some new shift for a lodging, and going once more among unknown people, was like being that moment turned adrift into my present life, with such a knowledge of it ready made as experience had given me. All the sensitive feelings it wounded so cruelly, all the shame and misery it kept alive within my breast, became more poignant as I thought of this; and I determined that the life was unendurable.

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I was very glad to be ordered away, for Mrs. and Miss Creakle were both wiping their eyes, and I felt as uncomfortable for them as I did for myself. But I had a petition on my mind which concerned me so nearly, that I couldn't help saying, though I wondered at my own courage: ¡¡¡¡'If you please, sir -' ¡¡¡¡Mr. Creakle whispered, 'Hah! What's this?' and bent his eyes upon me, as if he would have burnt me up with them. ¡¡¡¡'If you please, sir,' I faltered, '
might be allowed (I am very sorry indeed, sir, for what I did) to take this writing off, before the boys come back -' ¡¡¡¡Whether Mr. Creakle was in earnest, or whether he only did it to frighten me, I don't know, but he made a burst out of his chair, before which I precipitately retreated, without waiting for the escort Of the man with the wooden leg, and never once stopped until I reached my own bedroom, where, finding I was not pursued, I went to bed, as it was time, and lay quaking, for a couple of hours.

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a line of `Take, O take those lips away'. But the allusion was lost upon Tess. ¡¡¡¡`Now try,' said d'Urberville. ¡¡¡¡She attempted to look reserved; her face put on a sculptural severity. But he persisted in his demand, and at last, to get rid of him, she did put up her lips as directed for producing a clear note; laughing distressfully, however, and then blushing with vexation that she had laughed. ¡¡¡¡He encouraged her with `Try again!' ¡¡¡¡Tess was quite serious, painfully serious by this time; and she tried - ultimately and unexpectedly emitting a real round sound. The momentary pleasure of success got the better of her; her eyes enlarged, and she involuntarily smiled in his face. ¡¡¡¡`That's it! Now I have started you - you'll go on beautifully. There - I said I would not come near you; and, in spite of such temptation as never before fell to mortal man, I'll keep my word... Tess, do you think my mother a queer old soul?'

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"Oh dear," said MissMarple. "Where ought he to be?"
　　"Back at home in his Cathedral Close," said Father, "but he isn't."
　　"He told me," saidMiss Marple, "he was going to a conference at Lucerne.Something to do with the Dead Sea scrolls, I believe. He's agreat Hebrew and Aramaic scholar, you know."
　　"Yes," said Father. "You're quite right. That's where he – well, that's where he was supposed to be doing."
　　"Do you mean he didn'tturn up there?"
　　"No," said Father, "he didn't turn up."
　　"Oh, well," said MissMarple, "I expect he got his dates wrong."
　　"Very likely, very likely."
　　"I'm afraid,"said Miss Marple, "that that's not the first time that that's happened. I wentto have tea with him in Chadminster once. He was actually absent from home. Hishousekeeper told me then how very absent-minded he was."

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It was a fine night and he walked home to Bertram'sHotel after first getting into a bus which took him in the opposite direction. It wasmidnight when he got in and Bertram's Hotel at midnight usually preserved a decorousappearance of everyone having gone to bed. The lift was on a higher floor so the Canonwalked up the stairs. He came to his room, inserted the key in the lock, threw the dooropen and entered!
　　Good gracious, was he seeing things? But who –how – he saw the upraised arm too late…
　　Stars exploded in a kind of Guy Fawkes' display within his head…The Irish Mail rushed through the night. Or, morecorrectly through the darkness of the early morning hours.
　　At intervals the diesel engine gave its weirdbanshee warning cry. It was travelling at well over eighty miles an hour. It was on time.
　　Then, with some suddenness, the pace slackened asthe brakes came on. The wheels screamed as they gripped the metals. Slower… slower…. The guard put his head out of the windownoting the red signal ahead as the train came to a final halt. Some of the passengers wokeup. Most did not.

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"What I would really like –” Miss Marple hesitated.
　　"Yes?"
　　"I dare say you will think it rather silly of me."
　　"No, I'm sure I shan't. (Where did the old dear want to go?)"
　　"I would really like to go to Bertram's Hotel – in London."
　　"Bertram's Hotel? The name was vaguely familiar."
　　Words came from Miss Marple in a rush.
　　"I stayed there once – whenI was fourteen. With my uncle and aunt, Uncle Thomas, that was, he was Canon of Ely. And I've never forgotten it. If I could stay there – aweek would be quite enough – two weeks might be too expensive."Oh, that's all right.Of course you shall go. I ought to have thought that you might want to go to London –the shops and everything. We'll fix it up –if Bertram's Hotel still exists. So many hotels have vanished,sometimes bombed in the war and sometimes just given up."

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Logray wandered over to examine Artoo-Detoo, a most wondrous creature. Hesniffed, tapped, and stroke the droid's metal shell, then scrunched up his face in a lookof consternation. After a few moments of thought, he ordered the small robot cutdown. The crowd murmured excitedly and backed off a few feet. Artoo's vine binderswere slashed by two knife-wielding guards, causing the droid to slide down his poleand crash unceremoniously to the ground. The guards set him upright. Artoo was instantly furious. He zeroed in onTeebo as the source of his ignominy, and beeping a blue streak, began to chase theterrified Ewok in circles. The crowd roared—some cheering on Teebo, somesqueaking encouragement to the deranged droid.
Finally Artoo got close enough to Teebo to zing him with an electric charge.The shocked Ewok jumped into the air, squealed raucously, and ran away as fast ashis stubby little legs could carry him. Wicket slipped surreptitiously into the big hut,as the onlookers screeched their indignation or delight.