Thursday, September 26, 2019
The Good Book
Charles Dickens (1812-1870), Little Dorrit, Book I, Chapter 3:
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She then put on the spectacles and read certain passages aloud from a book—sternly, fiercely, wrathfully—praying that her enemies (she made them by her tone and manner expressly hers) might be put to the edge of the sword, consumed by fire, smitten by plagues and leprosy, that their bones might be ground to dust, and that they might be utterly exterminated.
