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Then there were all of Deane's footsteps, but no other man's, so far as I could see." "Yet he insists that he was touched or struck." "Yes." "With no one there to touch or strike him." Mr. Ashley was silent. "Let us step out and take a view of the place," I suggested. "I should prefer doing this to questioning the young man in his present state of mind."
Dr Nathaniel's word was law in Mr Deane's family, as it was in several others in the town, and he therefore quickly succeeded in smoothing down the somewhat ruffled temper of different members of the family.
We must be getting back. Laing's coming to lunch." "Where arc the Deanes?" "Lady Deane's gone to Belleville with your father to see slums, and Roger's playing tennis with Laing. He said we weren't to wait lunch. Are you hungry, Dolly?" "Not very. It seems only an hour since breakfast." "How charming of you! We've been walking here since ten o'clock." "Mr.
This was an idea which had not occurred to Alfred Barton. A thrill of greedy curiosity shot through his heart; he saw that, with Dr. Deane's help, he might be able to ascertain the amount of the inheritance which must so soon fall to him.
I have been waiting for you this half-hour, and was just going away." Maurice pulled aside the flap of the hosier's coat, as he was getting out, that he might peep at the gentleman who spoke; the voice was so like William Deane's, that he was quite astonished. "It is it is William Deane," cried Maurice, jumping out of the coach and shaking hands with his friend.
Pullet was sorry Bessy had those naughty, awkward children; she would do the best she could by them, but it was a pity they weren't as good and as pretty as sister Deane's child. Maggie and Tom, on their part, thought their aunt Pullet tolerable, chiefly because she was not their aunt Glegg. Tom always declined to go more than once during his holidays to see either of them.
So he resolutely brushed aside the woe-begone phantom of care, and entered into the abandon of the hour with a zest that delighted her. The dear girl imagined that Robert, her Robert, had made another speedy conquest, and Anstruther himself was much elated by the sudden change in Sir Arthur Deane's demeanor. They behaved like school children on a picnic.
It was a simple ceremony, performed in a spirit of perfect piety, and without any hypocrisy or formality. And when it was all over, and the villagers had dispersed to their homes, Mr. Twitt on his way "down street," as he termed it, from the churchyard, paused at Mary Deane's cottage to unburden his mind of a weighty resolution.
Then with one yearning look toward her uncle Deane's house that lay farther down the river, she took to both her oars and rowed with all her might across the watery fields, back toward the Mill.
Personally, he exulted in his conduct to the end of his life, and took pleasure in watching and recording Deane's disreputable career and miserable end. "As he rose like a rocket, so he fell like the stick," a metaphor which has passed into a proverb, was imagined by Paine to meet Deane's case.
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