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Updated: June 28, 2025
‘Do you, dear? well, bless your heart, I’m glad you do. Would you like to look at the book?’ ‘Well, I think I should.’ ‘Honour bright?’ said the apple-woman, looking me in the eyes. ‘Honour bright,’ said I, looking the apple-woman in the eyes.
I am a merchant; and a merchant's pocket-book, as you perhaps know, contains many things of importance; but young man," he exclaimed, "I think I have seen you before; I thought so at first, but where I cannot exactly say: where was it?" I mentioned London Bridge and the old apple-woman. "Oh," said he, and smiled, and there was something peculiar in his smile, "I remember now.
As I paused at the corner of Twelfth Street, by the church, you remember, I saw an apple-woman, from whose stores I determined to finish my dessert, which had been imperfect at home.
Every little common incident three little boys with their backs to a wall looking up at a church tower: he would catch snatches of their talk, speculations about deep things and strange; he would note that an old Irish apple-woman in a grimy English town left her basket, with all her stock-in-trade, outside in the street while she went into a church to commune with her heavenly friends; the conversation between a sapient publican, a friendly constable and a group of dubious bona fide travellers such things were materials for his insight or his fancy or his delightful humour.
Bolton," continued Florence, "did he ever stay away like this?" "No," answered Bolton. "Dodger was always very regular about comin' home." "Then something must have happened to him," said Florence, anxiously. "He might have got run in," suggested the apple-woman. "Some of them cops is mighty officious." "Dodger would never do anything to deserve arrest," Florence said, quickly.
To see each of his ugly, selfish motives changed into a good and generous one by the simplicity of a child was a singular experience. Fauntleroy went on, still regarding him with admiring eyes those great, clear, innocent eyes! "You make so many people happy," he said. "There's Michael and Bridget and their ten children, and the apple-woman, and Dick, and Mr. Hobbs, and Mr. Higgins and Mrs.
There used to be a market held outside, and a century or more ago an apple-woman sold some pippins to a customer just before this very door. He said he had paid for them, and she said he had not; they came to wrangling, and she called Heaven to justify her. `God strike me dead if I have ever touched your money! She was taken at her word, and fell dead on the cobbles.
"She said you encouraged the attentions of her nephew, forgetting the difference in social position, and also that your connections were not of a sort to recommend you. I admit, Miss Linden, that you are very ladylike in appearance, but, I can hardly be expected to admit into my house, in the important position of governess to my child, the daughter or niece of an apple-woman." "Did Mrs.
He stood here, and was looking at the large fine bronze knocker; but now when, as the last stroke tingled through the air with loud clang from the steeple-clock of the Kreuzkirche, he lifted his hand to grasp this same knocker, the metal visage twisted itself, with horrid rolling of its blue-gleaming eyes, into a grinning smile. Alas, it was the Apple-woman of the Black Gate!
Had it not been for the amazingly clumsy pieces of fiction which he threw into the narrative—such incidents as that of his meeting on the road the sailor son of the old apple-woman of London Bridge, and the exaggerated description of the man sent to sleep by reading Wordsworth—few readers would have doubted the autobiographical nature of ‘Lavengro’ and ‘The Romany Rye.’ Such incidents as these shed an air of unreality over the whole.
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