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The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. “I will make of the days and weeks one long morning, but remember the afternoon must come. Some man! And to conclude it all was the figure of her father in the doorway, giving her a last chance, his hat in one hand, his umbrella in the other, shaken at her to emphasize his point. “It was a plot amongst them all to humiliate her. Oh, and only look at those stains,’ cried Miss Froxfield, gesturing at the blood on the ruffles to the sleeves of Melusine’s riding-habit, and on the chemise she wore under it. As the wedding neared, she bought some finer things: a veal roast for supper, a single pearl for the dowry. ‘I will not, if you will assure me that an imbecile is a better marriage prospect than a starving pig. Will you be a faithful and honest wife? Will you do your duty by him, and forget all your past follies? Unless, Annabel, you can——” “Oh, I will pledge you my word,” Annabel cried passionately, “my solemn word. The wish was vain: and, endeavouring to banish every earthly thought, he addressed himself deeply and sincerely to prayer. ” “I think it is very good of me to come this afternoon. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable.

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