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"I expect Joe often thinks about you." "I dunnaw. 'Tis awful wicked, but Joe he gone clean out my mind now. I thot I loved en, but I was a cheel then an' I didn't 'sackly knaw what love was; now I do. 'Twadden what I felt for Joe Noy 'tall; 'tis what I feels for you, Mister Jan." "Ah, I like to hear you say that. Nature has brought you to me, Joan, my little jewel; and she has brought Jan to you.
He demanded four English shillings for the tin, remarking at the same time, that he had observed some other small articles, but would not examine them closely, though he had not seen either the box or the pieces of linen. This finished the day and we retired to rest. See post, p. 63, note 2. Probably the writer means Peter de la Noy, who was clerk under the collector of the port. 26th, Tuesday.
This little, pale, clever man, so quiet, so strange, so unlike anything else within her seventeen years of experience, had wrought Nature's vital miracle, and Joan, who, until then, believed herself in love with her sailor sweetheart, now stood aghast before the truth, stood bewildered between the tame and bloodless fantasy of her affection for Joe Noy and this wild, live reality.
"'Tis tu gert a thing for me to say no wummon was ever plaaced like what I be now. I do mean to see passon at Sancreed, uncle. He'll knaw what's right for me. If he bids me stay, I'll stay. 'Tis the thot o' Joe Noy maddens me. My head'll burst if I think any more. I'll go to passon." "Whether you'll stay, Polly! Why shouldn't 'e stay? Surely it do " "Doan't 'e talk no more 'tall, uncle.
"Forty devils!" says old Noy. "They're devils to eat," answered the sergeant, in the most friendly manner; "an', begad, ye must feed an' bed 'em this night or else I'll search your cellars. Ye are a loyal man eh, farmer? An' your cellars are big, I'm told." "Sarah," calls out the old man, following the sergeant's bold glance, "go back an' dress yersel' dacently this instant!
I want no more'n that," he said. "'Tis Anne Bundle's darter," answered Mrs. Tregenza, her mind on her maid. "The man!" thundered Noy, "the man who brot the thing about the man what ruined O God o' Hosts, be on my side now! Who weer 'e? Give me the name of en. That's all as I wants." "Us doan't knaw.
He broke into laughter, and Joe Noy, saying a few hasty words to Thomasin, departed.
He pulled it out and gave a look, and a sniff, and another look: then shut the drawer, locked it, strode straight down-stairs to his horse and galloped away. In three hours' time, pretty Madam Noy was in the constables' hands upon the charge of murdering her husband by poison. They tried her, next Spring Assize, at Bodmin, before the Lord Chief Justice.
Then, at the end of the second week of his work, Noy chanced to read that an Exhibition at the Institute of Painters in Oils was about to close; and not yet having visited that collection he set out on the morning of the following day to do so. According to his custom, Noy worked through the exhibition catalogue for each room before entering it.
Entering the great hive to accomplish that assassination as he supposed both planned and predestined for him before God made the sun, Noy set about his business in a deliberate and careful manner.
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