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You might still less have suspected that the figure in light fustian and large grey whiskers, leaning against the grocer's door-post in High Street, was no less a person than Mr. Lowme, one of the most aristocratic men in Milby, said to have been 'brought up a gentleman', and to have had the gay habits accordant with that station, keeping his harriers and other expensive animals.

I read in her face that she recognised me, and that I was not unwelcome; but she stood silent till I had opened my errand. 'I have news of your daughter, said I, resolved to speak straight to all that I knew she felt of love, and not to spare her. 'She is dead! The stern figure scarcely trembled, but her hand sought the support of the door-post.

Rough and graceless would be such greeting, but truth is handsomer than the affectation of love. Your goodness must have some edge to it, else it is none. The doctrine of hatred must be preached, as the counteraction of the doctrine of love, when that pules and whines. I shun father and mother and wife and brother when my genius calls me. I would write on the lintels of the door-post, Whim.

Here, however, the two daughters were immediately seized on by order of the commander of the siege, Buck English, and carried out, but not violently, until they came to the stable-door, where the eldest daughter laid hold of the iron bolt staple of the door-post, and so desperately did she hold it, that she did not let it go till her shoulder was dislocated.

The nun remained motionless, pressing her cheek against the door-post and looking out. Her aunt had not quite shut the door by which she had entered, and a cool stream of air blew outward from the corridor and through the cell, bringing with it that peculiar odour which belongs to all large and old buildings inhabited by religious communities.

Bridget waited for no more, but ran with the good news to the House. Poor old Nancy had made an excuse to get away from Madam for a few minutes and was leaning against the door-post, scarcely able to stand, and with a face of the most intense misery. When she saw Bridget running towards her, waving her apron, she knew the news must be good. "They're all right!" screamed Bridget, ever so far away.

Ye who yearn and who at last embrace a heart, ye embrace along with it the love of all those who have ever been, or who ever shall be. One Sunday afternoon Barefoot, according to her custom, was leaning against the door-post of the house and gazing dreamily out before her, when Coaly Mathew's grandson came running up the street, beckoning to her from afar and crying: "He is come, Barefoot!

Score's face, as for one more chance. "Get out, you nasty trull!" said that lady, sternly, with arms akimbo; and poor Catherine, with a most piteous scream and outgush of tears, let go of the door-post and staggered away into the road. "Why, no yes no it is poor Catherine Hall, as I live!" said somebody, starting up, shoving aside Mrs.

There was a story, which I shrank from verifying, that a former inmate of our house had hung himself in it, but I do not know to this day whether it was true or not. The doubt did not prevent him from dangling at the door-post, in my consciousness, and many a time I shunned the sight of this problematical suicide by keeping my eyes fastened on the book before me.

He put his hand against the door-post to steady himself. "Any message for me?" "She said that you would forgive her." "May God blast my soul on the day I do! Where have they gone to?" "To France, I should judge." "His name was de Lapp, I think?" "His real name is de Lissac; and he is no less than a colonel in Boney's Guards." "Ah! he would be in Paris, likely. That is well! That is well!"