Page 162 - david-copperfield
P. 162
today, tonight - when I was inside the Yarmouth mail, and
going home.
I had many a broken sleep inside the Yarmouth mail, and
many an incoherent dream of all these things. But when I
awoke at intervals, the ground outside the window was not
the playground of Salem House, and the sound in my ears
was not the sound of Mr. Creakle giving it to Traddles, but
the sound of the coachman touching up the horses.
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