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Updated: May 14, 2025
This and my happening to be alone with you and everything around us seeming so quiet and peaceful after Mr. Honeythunder's departure and Cloisterham being so old and grave and beautiful, with the moon shining on it these things inclined me to open my heart. 'I quite understand, Mr. Neville. And it is salutary to listen to such influences.
'I yes, I called it eloquence, said Mr. Crisparkle. 'But for Mr. Honeythunder's eloquence, I might have had no need to ask you what I am going to ask you. This Mr. Edwin Drood, sir: I think that's the name? 'Quite correct, said Mr. Crisparkle. 'D-r-double o-d. 'Does he or did he read with you, sir? 'Never, Mr. Neville. He comes here visiting his relation, Mr. Jasper.
Honeythunder's loud appeal, but his eye to catch the often ludicrous aspect of honest whimsey. During all the early years of his literary career he flew his flashing darts at all the "isms", and he fell under the doubt and censure of those earnest children of the time whom the gay and clever sceptics derided as apostles of the newness.
Crisparkle was so completely lost in musing on these similarities and dissimilarities, at the same time watching the crowd which came and went by, always, as it seemed, on errands of antagonistically snatching something from somebody, and never giving anything to anybody, that his name was called before he heard it. Honeythunder's room. 'Sir, said Mr.
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