1 Stephen broke out of his chair.
2 All wandering and lost, Stephen.
3 Stephen Blackpool in the parlour.
4 Stephen and Rachael in the sick room.
5 Stephen happened to glance towards Mrs. Sparsit.
6 Stephen looked older, but he had had a hard life.
7 Stephen bent over his loom, quiet, watchful, and steady.
8 He was usually called Old Stephen, in a kind of rough homage to the fact.
9 There was nothing troublesome against Stephen Blackpool; yes, he might come in.
10 Thou art not the man to cast the last stone, Stephen, when she is brought so low.
11 Stephen came out of the hot mill into the damp wind and cold wet streets, haggard and worn.
12 Stephen, subsiding into his quiet manner, and never wandering in his attention, gave a nod.
13 It was not so far off, but that Stephen, following her hands with his eyes, could read what was printed on it in large letters.
14 A special contrast, as every man was in the forest of looms where Stephen worked, to the crashing, smashing, tearing piece of mechanism at which he laboured.
15 Stephen looked at her, saw how pale she was, noted the disorder of her hair, and the red marks of fingers on her forehead, and felt assured that his senses of sight and hearing had been awake.
16 Old Stephen descended the two white steps, shutting the black door with the brazen door-plate, by the aid of the brazen full-stop, to which he gave a parting polish with the sleeve of his coat, observing that his hot hand clouded it.
17 A rather stooping man, with a knitted brow, a pondering expression of face, and a hard-looking head sufficiently capacious, on which his iron-grey hair lay long and thin, Old Stephen might have passed for a particularly intelligent man in his condition.
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