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The brown pot could never be of use to him any more, but he stuck the bits together and propped the ruin in its old place for a memorial. This is the history of Silas Marner, until the fifteenth year after he came to Raveloe.
Her limitations clearly appeared in "Daniel Deronda." When describing the characters and intercourse of Grandcourt and Gwendolen, when dealing with every thing English in that variously estimated work, she remained the great author of "Adam Bede" and "Silas Marner."
Silas Marner could very likely do as much, and more; and now it was all clear how he should have come from unknown parts, and be so "comical-looking". But Sally Oates must mind and not tell the doctor, for he would be sure to set his face against Marner: he was always angry about the Wise Woman, and used to threaten those who went to her that they should have none of his help any more.
Novels are otherwise divided into novels of personality, like Vicar of Wakefield and Silas Marner; historical novels, Ivanhoe; novels of romance, like Lorna Doone and novels of purpose, like Oliver Twist and Uncle Tom's Cabin. All such classifications are imperfect, and the best of them is open to objections.
I am so impatient to get on. If my husband is living, I must reach him." "But how can you go, chile?" "Go alone, Uncle Jack. I assure you I am not afraid." By Jupiter! Jack Marner let a weakly lookin' woman like you start alone from his house, with no strong arm to pertect you? Never, never, never!" exclaimed the kind old man with emphasis, as he shook his gray locks.
That's what you must do, Master Marner, if you'd do the right thing by the orphin child." Marner's pale face flushed suddenly under a new anxiety. His mind was too busy trying to give some definite bearing to Dolly's words for him to think of answering her.
Mary Powlett was indeed the niece and not the daughter of Luke Marner, but as he had brought her up from childhood she looked upon him as her father. It was her accent and the tone of her voice which rendered it unnecessary for any of those present to see her face.
Indeed, she was presently much interested in the admirable portraiture of "Silas Marner," and still more by the keen, vivid enjoyment, critical, droll, and moralizing, displayed by a man who heard works of fiction so rarely that they were always fresh to him, and who looked on them as studies of life.
"And as for the money for the suit o' clothes, why, you get a matter of a pound a-week at your weaving, Master Marner, and you're a young man, eh, for all you look so mushed. Why, you couldn't ha' been five-and-twenty when you come into these parts, eh?" Silas started a little at the change to a questioning tone, and answered mildly, "I don't know; I can't rightly say it's a long while since."
Dolly Winthrop told him that punishment was good for Eppie, and that, as for rearing a child without making it tingle a little in soft and safe places now and then, it was not to be done. "To be sure, there's another thing you might do, Master Marner," added Dolly, meditatively: "you might shut her up once i' the coal-hole.
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