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Osborne was going, and where Mary was sure she would never be so happy as she had been in their humble cot, as Miss Clapp called it, in the language of the novels which she loved. Let us hope she was wrong in her judgement. Poor Emmy's days of happiness had been very few in that humble cot. A gloomy Fate had oppressed her there.
If it was not said, she was dependent upon his charity later, and would cry sleeplessly at night for want of sureness of him. "D'you love me?" she suddenly said. Alf whistled. He seemed for that instant to be quite taken aback by her inquiry. "There's no harm in me asking, I suppose." Into Emmy's voice there came a thread of roughness. "No harm at all," Alf politely said. "Not at all."
"He's been doing palmistry reading it. All about ... what's going to happen to me. Wasn't it, Alf!" Emmy disregarded her, watching Alf's too-transparent uneasiness. "You always were a little lying beast," she said, venomously. "A trickster." "You see?" Jenny said, defiantly to Alf. "What my own sister says?" "So you were. With your sailor.... And playing the fool with Alf!" Emmy's voice rose.
He was the ami de la maison old Sedley's friend, Emmy's friend, Georgy's friend, Jos's counsel and adviser. "He might almost as well be at Madras for anything WE see of him," Miss Ann Dobbin remarked at Camberwell. Ah! Miss Ann, did it not strike you that it was not YOU whom the Major wanted to marry? Joseph Sedley then led a life of dignified otiosity such as became a person of his eminence.
And while, with the exception of Emmy, the most beautiful, sweetest and noblest women did not exercise the slightest alluring power over me and Emmy's guileless trust in me and her absolute want of jealousy in that respect were entirely justified, a coarse, low-born, sensual and good-natured woman could seduce me to things that neither Emmy nor any of the persons who knew me would have deemed possible.
The remaining animal was Emmy's son, a half-broken colt, whose only virtue was that he would not stray very far from his mother. Mistatimoosis was his mouthful of a name. He forgot his pack sometimes, and striking it full tilt against a tree, would be knocked endwise in the trail, blinking and dismayed, as who should say, "Who hit me?"
The more he reflected on Emmy's letter and on Wiggleswick's views on women the less did he agree with Wiggleswick.
The fact is, I've got a couple of tickets for the theatre down the road for this evening, I thought ... erum ..." "Oh, extravagance!" cried Jenny, gaily, dropping the pin from between her lips and looking in an amused flurry at Emmy's anguished face opposite. It was as though a chill had struck across the room, as though both Emmy's heart and her own had given a sharp twist at the shock.
"Where you going?" asked Alf, detaining her. "What is it? Too rough, am I?" He could not see Emmy's shaken head, and was for a moment puzzled at the ways of woman so far from his grasp. "No," Emmy said. "It's wonderful." Peering closely, Alf could see her eyes shining. "D'you think you're fond enough of me, Emmy?" She demurred. "That's a nice thing to say!
Pa could not hear anything besides the banging of pots, and he was too used to sudden noises to take any notice of such a thing; but the pots themselves, occasionally dented in savage dashes against each other or against the taps, might have heard vicious apostrophes if they had listened intently to Emmy's ejaculations.
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