If Charles Dickens were alive he would kiss the thespian Garry Boon for telling his tale. (Please Note: thespian this is not a new quirky sexual orientation.)

No Garry Boon sells as he tells you the story of Doctor Marigold with carefully chosen words tripping from his tongue, modulated for effect.

It is 1864 and Doctor Marigold is not a doctor at all but a cheap jack, a fast talking market seller. Doctor is merely his name.

I got to listen to Charles Dickens lucid prose- the vowels, the consonants, the syllables; the rhythms break over me like waves.  His...