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Updated: May 14, 2025
"Your name then is " he inquired, pausing for her to fill up the question by her answer. "Sara Rondeau," she said simply; "it is for my aunt that I come. I live with my aunt." "And Bashley, does he did he has he visited you to bring you money?" Already the lad felt a short jealous pang, but knew not what it was. "He has been to measure our work, but not to bring money. My aunt comes here herself."
It had happened, then, some months before, that Bashley being away for a day's holiday, Antoine took his place at the scale; for it was a slack time, and few workpeople were there to be served. He believed he had given out the last skein of silk, and had weighed the last bobbin, so shutting the slide, and putting up the bar, he unlocked an inner door, and went into the house and up the stairs.
By a horrible fiction it is often thought that such a man is "just fit to deal with workpeople." The same opinion prevailed then, and thus Bashley was able to get a character which obtained for him a place in the warehouse of Anton Dormeur.
This man Bashley told me, as one proof of his knowledge, that even to-night this night that I have bidden him to meet me Antoine will not be at home; that he may stay away altogether to avoid my questioning; that he will certainly disappoint me for the sake of this girl with whom he has an engagement. How then?"
What is it that I can do for you?" There was no embarrassment except that of modesty as she curtseyed before him. She might have been a young duchess by the frankness with which she met his look. "I come from Marie Rondeau," she said, "who has sprained her foot and cannot walk. Mr. Bashley said she might send for the money due to her if she was still lame."
Not only this, but he hinted at low companions at a secret love affair with a girl far beneath him in station of this he would, if necessary, furnish proof. It was with a troubled heart that Anton Dormeur, having at last escaped from a whispered conference with Bashley, locked up the warehouse, and went slowly out towards Shoreditch on his way to the "Providence."
The sound of wheels aroused him, and Bashley for it was he gave a half-frightened glance behind him, for he had suddenly become conscious that he was talking to himself. He looked upwards also, as though by some strange instinct; and there, leaning over the wooden balustrade of the "well," their faces lighted in the gleam of his lantern, were Anton Dormeur and Sara Rondeau, looking down upon him.
She trembled too for the peace of the fair girl, who had too soon learned to know his footstep, and to flush with pleasure at his approach. Already trouble seemed to threaten them, for Bashley had warned her, and in a coarse insolent way had said he meant to be Sara's sweetheart himself or they might seek work elsewhere.
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