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Of all the ruinous and desolate places my uncle had ever beheld, this was the most so. There was a huge fire-place in the room into which they walked, and the chimney was blackened with smoke; but no warm blaze lighted it up now. The white feathery dust of burnt wood was still strewed over the hearth, but the stove was cold, and all was dark and gloomy.
— Charles Dickens said that


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