Excerpt: "'There's a sheet of letter-paper,' he returned. 'Did you ever buy a sheet of letter-paper?' I could not remember that I ever had. 'It's dear,' he said, 'on account of the duty. Threepence. That's the way we're taxed in this country. There's nothing else, except the waiter. Never mind the ink. I lose by that."
Contained in: The Personal History of David Copperfield
Location: p. 51