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Nevertheless, his wife went fearlessly up to him, and said, laying her hand on his arm, "It is, indeed, well that a man can keep his eyes set on what is just, when we women should follow the hasty impulse of our heart. Even in wrestling, men only fight with lawful and recognized means, while fighting women use their teeth and nails.
"The wind has stiffened," said he with some concern. "The bear made us forget about the ice. Do you think it's all right?" "That's what I'm thinkin' about." Toby looked worried. "We'll soon be knowin'. If the ice has gone abroad from the shore, we're in a worse fix than the bear had us in." "What'll we do if it has?" asked Charley with a sinking heart. "'Twill be a bad fix.
So over-great is their joy that neither can believe the witness of his senses; nothing so good could be true as that this verily which can be seen and clasped should be the so sorely desired one. They vent themselves in such childish, fond, incredulous exclamations as: Is it you yourself? Are they your eyes? Are they your lips? Have I here your hand? Have I here your heart? Is it I? Is it you?
"Having read our old friend's letter, Miss Minerva turned back, and read it again and waited a little, repeating some part of it to herself. "'Does it encourage you? I asked. "She handed the letter back to me. 'I have got one sentence in it by heart, she said. "You will know what that sentence is, without my telling you.
He strained his ears to hear, and as he listened, there came another sound a moaning, sobbing voice below his window! It was grief he heard now, something that went to his heart and held him cold and still. The voice was sobbing like that of a child, yet he knew it was not a child's. Nor was it a woman's.
The place had formerly been a German restaurant, with Teuton scrolls, "Ich Dien," and heraldries on its walls. A frugal brush changed the decoration. From the heart of a Prussian blazonry, there flares on you in Chinese yellow a recommendation to try "Our Chicken Chop Soy."
If I should find him, then will be time enough to think of showing him." And with that his thoughts turned from Bascombe, and went back to the draper. When he reached home, he took out his sonnet, but, after working at it for a little while, he found that he must ease his heart by writing another. Here it is: Methought that in a solemn church I stood.
In proportion as it refused to acknowledge a common divine nature with the degraded mass, it deserted its first healthy instinct, which told it that the spiritual world is identical with the moral world, with right, love, justice; it tried to find new definitions for the spiritual; it conceived it to be identical with the intellectual. That did not satisfy its heart.
It was a pulse of sound obscure as the thudding of his heart. But it was a human sound and it made his throat close up tightly, as if a hand were settling around his wind-pipe. Buck Daniels rose from his chair; that half-mad, half-listening look was still in his eyes behind his eyes.
He could be sorry for her and be kind; he could even be her honest friend and protector as a wronged and unhappy woman, but he could not love one with a history like hers and did not wish her to love him. This seemed an adequate explanation of the change in their relations, but she felt that it was one under which her life would wither and her heart break.
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