1 The visitors stopped a long time.
2 Oliver stopped, and peeped into the garden.
3 At length he stopped, and rang the bell violently.
4 'Stop a minute, my dear,' said the Jew, producing, a little covered basket.
5 They chafed her breast, hands, and temples; but the blood had stopped forever.
6 With its first stroke, his two conductors stopped, and turned their heads in the direction whence the sound proceeded.
7 Mr. Bumble stopped not to converse with the small shopkeepers and others who spoke to him, deferentially, as he passed along.
8 Sometimes he stopped at the fire-place, and sometimes at the door, making believe that he was staring with all his might into shop-windows.
9 A child was weeding one of the little beds; as he stopped, he raised his pale face and disclosed the features of one of his former companions.
10 The old gentleman stopped, laid down his pen, and looked from Oliver to Mr. Limbkins; who attempted to take snuff with a cheerful and unconcerned aspect.
11 The Jew stopped for an instant at the corner of the street; and, glancing suspiciously round, crossed the road, and struck off in the direction of the Spitalfields.
12 As it extorted nothing from that gentleman but a smile, the old lady tossed her head, and smoothed down her apron preparatory to another speech, when she was stopped by Mr. Brownlow.
13 Some few stopped to gaze at Oliver for a moment or two, or turned round to stare at him as they hurried by; but none relieved him, or troubled themselves to inquire how he came there.
14 Having disposed of these evil-minded persons for the night, Mr. Bumble sat himself down in the house at which the coach stopped; and took a temperate dinner of steaks, oyster sauce, and porter.
15 Noah stopped to make no reply, but started off at his fullest speed; and very much it astonished the people who were out walking, to see a charity-boy tearing through the streets pell-mell, with no cap on his head, and a clasp-knife at his eye.
16 There was neither knocker nor bell-handle at the open door where Oliver and his master stopped; so, groping his way cautiously through the dark passage, and bidding Oliver keep close to him and not be afraid the undertaker mounted to the top of the first flight of stairs.
17 The coach rattled away, over nearly the same ground as that which Oliver had traversed when he first entered London in company with the Dodger; and, turning a different way when it reached the Angel at Islington, stopped at length before a neat house, in a quiet shady street near Pentonville.
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