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You could hear the sound of Sister Tobias's smoothing-iron coming up from below, thump-thumping on the blanketed board. "And where do you think we get the water, now?" the rosy Sister, in process of being packed into the spider, leaned over the wheel to ask. "Not from the Convent?"
Black hair and eyebrows grew bushily from his dull-white Frewin skin. He would be an engineer. Mr. Belk's brother had taken him into his works at Durlingham. He wasn't seventeen, yet he knew how to make engines. He had a strong, lumbering body. His heart would go on thump-thumping with regular strokes, like a stupid piston, not like Roddy's heart, excited, quivering, hurrying, suddenly checking.
I saw he recognised me and gave him a civil salute, which he returned with a brusque nod and a sharper, "Good-morning, Littlejohn," as he passed. Then he swung into Main Street, paralleling my course on the opposite sidewalk, and went thump-thumping along, darting quick glances hither and yon beneath his heavy brows, like some dark incarnation of perverse pride and passion.
"I I sweep, too," he confessed; "and make beds, and and wash dishes." Then he set his small jaws and waited, for the other was again thoughtfully turning the pages of the book. He could hear the hard thump-thumping of his own heart. He began to wish that he had not been tempted to tell.
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