1 The candles that lighted that room of hers were placed in sconces on the wall.
2 Our conference was held in the state parlor, which was feebly lighted by one candle.
3 I entered, therefore, and found myself in a pretty large room, well lighted with wax candles.
4 He took my chin in his large hand and turned up my face to have a look at me by the light of the candle.
5 I followed the candle down, as I had followed the candle up, and she stood it in the place where we had found it.
6 As he now appeared in his doorway, towelling his hands, Wemmick got on his great-coat and stood by to snuff out the candles.
7 She locked it after admitting me, as she had done before, and again preceded me into the dark passage where her candle stood.
8 We traversed but one side of the square, however, and at the end of it she stopped, and put her candle down and opened a door.
9 The fire had not then burnt unusually low, nor was the snuff of the candle very long; the candle, however, had been blown out.
10 She took it up, and we went through more passages and up a staircase, and still it was all dark, and only the candle lighted us.
11 It began with the strange gentleman's sitting down at the table, drawing the candle to him, and looking over some entries in his pocket-book.
12 Certain wintry branches of candles on the high chimney-piece faintly lighted the chamber; or it would be more expressive to say, faintly troubled its darkness.
13 As he wanted the candles close to him, and as he was always on the verge of putting either his head or the newspaper into them, he required as much watching as a powder-mill.
14 She took no notice of me until she had the candle in her hand, when she looked over her shoulder, superciliously saying, "You are to come this way to-day," and took me to quite another part of the house.
15 Each of us would then refer to a confused heap of papers at his side, which had been thrown into drawers, worn into holes in pockets, half burnt in lighting candles, stuck for weeks into the looking-glass, and otherwise damaged.
16 When I awoke without having parted in my sleep with the perception of my wretchedness, the clocks of the Eastward churches were striking five, the candles were wasted out, the fire was dead, and the wind and rain intensified the thick black darkness.
17 As I stood idle by Mr. Jaggers's fire, its rising and falling flame made the two casts on the shelf look as if they were playing a diabolical game at bo-peep with me; while the pair of coarse, fat office candles that dimly lighted Mr. Jaggers as he wrote in a corner were decorated with dirty winding-sheets, as if in remembrance of a host of hanged clients.
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