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Isa. That's very hard, because you are a laborious, ill-bred Tradesman, I must be bound to be a mean Citizen's Wife. Fran. Why, what are you better than I, forsooth, that you must be a Lady, and have your Petticoats lac'd four Stories high; wear your false Towers, and cool your self with your Spanish Fan? Enter Antonio. Isabella weeps. Ant.
Plausaby knew that his wife would sign anything if he could present the matter to her alone. But, to get rid of Isabel Marlay? A very coward now in the presence of Isa, he sent the lawyer ahead, while he followed close behind. "Miss Marlay," said Mr. Conger, smiling blandly but speaking with decision, "it will be necessary for me to speak to Mrs. Plausaby for a few minutes alone."
Though banking wholly with Heaven in the matter of their own salvation from hunger, the Argonauts displayed mere worldly wisdom in the case of Moussa Isa and gave him the minimum of food that might be calculated to keep within him strength adequate to his duties of steering, swarming up the mast, baling, cooking, massaging the liver of the Leading Gentleman, and so forth.
When they all passed their evenings together in the beer-garden, she would studiously manage that his chair should not be close to her own. Occasionally she would walk with him, but not more frequently now than of yore. Very few, indeed, of a lover's privileges did he enjoy. And in this way the long year wore itself out, and Isa Heine was one-and-twenty.
He hath also taken on him the office of a king, Psal. ii. 6. Matt, xxviii. 5. Isa. ix. 7. Phil. ii. 8-11. and thereby standeth engaged to subdue all their spiritual enemies, Satan and corruption, Psal. cx. He is given for a leader and commander, Isa. lv. 5, and so can cause his people walk in his ways.
It was not until Sunday evening, as he lay listlessly watching his scanty allowance of daylight grow dimmer, that he became sure of the hand that he had detected in the workmanship of the piece. He got up quickly and looked at it more closely and said: "It must be Isa Marlay!" And he lay down again, saying: "Well, it can never be quite dark in a man's life when he has one friend."
He writes again from St.-Aubin, August 19, 1870: 'Dearest Isa, Your letter came prosperously to this little wild place, where we have been, Sarianna and myself, just a week. Milsand lives in a cottage with a nice bit of garden, two steps off, and we occupy another of the most primitive kind on the sea-shore which shore is a good sandy stretch for miles and miles on either side.
Moussa Isa weighed chances and considered. He did not want to bungle it and lose his revenge and his life too. Would he be seen if he struck now? The light fell on the very spot for the true infallible death-stroke. Should he strike now, here, in the midst of the yelling mob?
Isa was washing the supper dishes. She was a tall, gaunt woman with a kindly glance that Nature had, for a safeguard, hidden under heavy black brows. "You, Joyce?" she said, going on with her task. "I thought maybe it was some one else." "Isa," the girl stepped cautiously forward, "I want to tell you something." The gathering hilarity in the tavern made this moment secure.
What he spoke was brief; but there was a gravity and tender wisdom in it that strangely contrasted with the frivolous scene, and awakened unwonted ideas of heavenly purity even in thoughtless and dissipated minds. The only one of the company who seemed to seek his society was the youngest, the fair little child Isa.
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