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"'Tis enoof t' raaise yore pore feyther clane out of 'is graave!" "'E'd sooner 'ave seed yo in yore coffin, Assy." She rose and took down the tea-caddy from the chimney-piece and flung a reckless measure into the tea-pot. "Ef 'e'd 'a been a-livin', 'E'd a killed yo. Thot's what 'e'd 'a doon." As she said it she grasped the kettle and poured the boiling water into the tea-pot.

In the surgery Rowcliffe whistled inaudibly. That was indeed a desperate shift. Rowcliffe had turned and was now standing with his back to the fire. He was intensely interested. "Assy Gaale? He would n' coom for Assy's asskin', a man like Greatorex." Mrs. Blenkiron's blood, the blood of the Greatorexes, was up.

The young man's right arm threw him off; his left arm remained round Alice. "It's yo' s'all nat tooch her, Mr. Cartaret," he said. "Ef yo' coom between her an' mae I s'all 'ave t' kill yo'. I'd think nowt of it. Dawn't yo' bae freetened, my laass," he murmured tenderly. The next instant he was fierce again. "An' look yo' 'ere, Mr. Cartaret. It was yo' who aassked mae t' marry Assy.

Rochefort was the son of a marquis who had been forced to write for bread. Deleschuze was an ex-convict. Blanqui had spent two thirds of his life in prison, having been engaged from his youth up in conspiracy. He was also at one period a Government spy. Raoul Rigault also had been a spy and an informer from his boyhood. Mégy and Assy were under sentence for murder.

And up to the last possible moment, even to her daughter, she was determined to ignore what had happened. But she knew and Essy knew that she knew. "Doan yo saay it, Assy. Doan yo saay it." Essy said nothing. "D'yo 'ear mae speaakin' to yo? Caann't yo aanswer? Is it thot, Assy? Is it thot?" "Yas, moother, yo knaw 'tis thot." "An' yo dare to coom 'ear and tell mae! Yo dirty 'oossy!

It called upon all citizens in their sections at once to elect a commune. This proclamation was signed by twenty citizens, only one of whom, M. Assy, had ever been heard of in Paris. Some months before, he had headed a strike, killed a policeman, and had been condemned to the galleys for murder.

"Nat Assy Gaale?" he said. "Assy Gaale? 'Oo's she to mook 'er naame with 'er dirty toongue?" "Yo'll not goa far thot road, Jimmy. 'Tis wi' t' womenfawlk yo'll 'aave t' racken." He knew it. The first he had to reckon with was Maggie. Maggie, being given notice, had refused to take it. "Yo' can please yoresel, Mr. Greatorex. I can goa. I can goa.

For it was there, at the turn of the road, below the arches, that he had meant to say what he had not said the other night. There was no moon. The moment was propitious. They met above the schoolhouse as the clock struck the quarter. "You're wanted, sir," said the blacksmith, "at Mrs. Gale's." "Is it Essy?" "Ay, it's Assy." In the cottage down by the beck Essy groaned and cried in her agony.

Do yo' aassk mae t' marry Assy now? Naw! Assy may rot for all yo' care. But do yo' suppawss I'd 'a' doon it fer yore meddlin'? Naw! "You are not going to be asked," said Gwenda. "You are not going to marry her." "Gwenda," said the Vicar, "you will be good enough to leave this to me." "It can't be left to anybody but Ally." "It s'all be laft to her," said Greatorex.

Gale to look in at the Vicarage on her way home, for Essy wasn't very well. But Mrs. Gale had shied off from the subject of Essy. She had done it with the laughter of deep wisdom and a shake of her head. You couldn't teach Mrs. Gale anything about illness, nor about Essy. "I knaw Assy," she had said. "There's nowt amiss with her. Doan't you woorry."

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