Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens, Fiction, Classics, Literary
Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens, Fiction, Classics, Literary
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As Oliver gave this first proof of the free and proper action of his lungs, the patchwork coverlet which was carelessly flung over the iron bedstead, rustled; the pale face of a young woman was raised feebly from the pillow; and a faint voice imperfectly articulated the words, "Let me see the child, and die." The surgeon had been sitting with his face turned towards the fire: giving the palms of his hands a warm and a rub alternately. As the young woman spoke, he rose, and advancing to the bed'…
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  • Publisher:
  • Year: 2004
  • Pages: 392
  • ISBN-10: 0809597551
  • ISBN-13: 9780809597550
  • Format: 15.2 x 22.9 x 2.7 cm, kieti viršeliai
  • Language: English

Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens, Fiction, Classics, Literary (e-book) (used book) | bookbook.eu

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As Oliver gave this first proof of the free and proper action of his lungs, the patchwork coverlet which was carelessly flung over the iron bedstead, rustled; the pale face of a young woman was raised feebly from the pillow; and a faint voice imperfectly articulated the words, "Let me see the child, and die." The surgeon had been sitting with his face turned towards the fire: giving the palms of his hands a warm and a rub alternately. As the young woman spoke, he rose, and advancing to the bed's head, said, with more kindness than might have been expected of him: "Oh, you must not talk about dying yet."

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  • Author: Charles Dickens
  • Publisher:
  • Year: 2004
  • Pages: 392
  • ISBN-10: 0809597551
  • ISBN-13: 9780809597550
  • Format: 15.2 x 22.9 x 2.7 cm, kieti viršeliai
  • Language: English English

As Oliver gave this first proof of the free and proper action of his lungs, the patchwork coverlet which was carelessly flung over the iron bedstead, rustled; the pale face of a young woman was raised feebly from the pillow; and a faint voice imperfectly articulated the words, "Let me see the child, and die." The surgeon had been sitting with his face turned towards the fire: giving the palms of his hands a warm and a rub alternately. As the young woman spoke, he rose, and advancing to the bed's head, said, with more kindness than might have been expected of him: "Oh, you must not talk about dying yet."

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