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Dombey sat in the corner of the darkened room in the great armchair by the bedside, and Son lay tucked up warm in a basket bedstead, carefully disposed on a low settee immediately in front of the fire and close to it, as if his constitution were analogous to that of a muffin, and it was essential to toast him brown while he was very new. Chapter 1, Paragraph 1, Dombey and Son ... by Charles Dickens. Last Modified 2/6/05 9:35 AM |
