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"The mystery of life He probes; and in the battling din of things That frets the feeble ear, he seeks and finds A harmony that tunes the dissonant strife To sweetest music." This year the effort to keep Christmas in Seat-Sandal was a failure. Julius did not return in time for the festival, and the squire was unable to take any part in it.
Stevens, who stood in the centre of the apartment; he assumed an air of profound mystery, and she, supposing that he was about to whisper in her ear, inclined her head toward him.
I shall go away and prove the truth of my words by hunting her up at once." The detective opened the door, beckoned in the doctor, who whispered two or three words into Howard's ear. They failed to awake the emotion he evidently expected.
Now the hunter cast his eyes into the depths of the river in anxious search for the signs of the approach of the finny people; now he laid his ear to the earth after the manner of his race, when they would detect the sound of footsteps.
Don't be afraid, Louise Madame de Saint-Remy will not come; and if she should, you know I have a quick ear. Besides, what can be more permissible than to write to an old friend of twelve years' standing, particularly when the letter begins with the words 'Monsieur Raoul'?" "It is all very well I will not write to him at all," said the young girl.
Her ear, disappointed of the rat-tat, morbidly followed every sound; but it seemed a long time before her boy's returning footstep reached her. The strange, slow drag of it worked upon her nerves, and her heart grew sick with premonition. He held out the letter towards her. His face was white. 'She cannot marry me, because I am a Jew, he said tonelessly.
A glorious hand seemed to beckon him to Africa. There he was to go and find his destiny. The last stanza runs: "Mine ear will hear no other sound, No other thought my heart will know. Is this a sin? Oh, pardon, Lord! Thou mad'st me so." He would obtain the fame of a great traveller; the earth should roll up for him as a carpet.
'It would have been mine! said my father, bending suddenly to my ear, and humming his philosophical 'heigho, as he stepped on in minuet fashion.
"He may be tremendously in love," observed Mr. Pole; "but he seems a deuced soft sort of a doctor! What's his name?" "I love Wilfrid." The merchant appeared to be giving ear to her, long after the words had been uttered, while there was silence in the room. "Wilfrid? my son?" he cried with a start. "He is my lover." "Damned rascal!" Mr. Pole jumped from his chair.
Williams did not appear to be in the least disconcerted at this declaration; he simply sat down by Ned's side and whispered earnestly for some minutes in the lad's ear.
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