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The old lady addressed some question to Liza, and I could not help shuddering, I remember, when her daughter's broken voice, like cracked glass, sounded in reply. Meanwhile the sun had set, and the afterglow began to fade. We turned back. Again I took Liza's arm in mine. It was still light in the wood, and I could clearly distinguish her features. She was confused, and did not raise her eyes.
"I tried, and I tried hard, to stick to th' chapel, but 'tweren't th' same thing at after. I hadn't 'Liza's voice to follow i' th' singin', nor her eyes a-shinin' acrost their heads. And i' th' class-meetings they said as I mun have some experiences to tell, and I hadn't a word to say for mysen.
She had been detained by Alexey Yegorytch, who was following a step behind her, in a tail coat, and without a hat; his head was bowed respectfully. He was persistently entreating her to wait for a carriage; the old man was alarmed and almost in tears. "Go along. Your master is asking for tea, and there's no one to give it to him," said Pyotr Stepanovitch, pushing him away. He took Liza's arm.
'You won't sty in long, I lay, he said, as he sent the old bowler fielding and took the ball himself. He was a young gentleman who did not suffer from excessive backwardness. 'Aht! shouted a dozen voices as the ball went past Liza's bat and landed in the pile of coats which formed the wicket. The captain came forward to resume his innings, but Liza held the bat away from him.
Liza's heart throbbed, and her head went round with joy and happiness. She sank into an armchair and went on observing them, sitting down. "How did they come here?" she wondered as she sent airy kisses to Mishutka. "Who gave them the idea of coming here? Heavens! Can all that wealth belong to them? Can those swan-like horses that were led in at the gate belong to Ivan Petrovitch? Ah!"
There was a great sob for Liza in the heart of the humor of that situation; and trying no longer to conceal her sorrow at her lover's relapse into drinking habits, she laid her head on Rotha's breast and wept outright. "We must go to Mrs. Ray; she'll be lonely, poor old thing," said Rotha, drying Liza's eyes; "besides, she hasn't had her supper, you know."
The shadows wandered about from morning till evening, and made the summer visitors feel dismal. . . . After Liza's shadow invariably walked the shadow of Groholsky. . . . I call them shadows because they had both lost their natural appearance.
It was the day when Aunt Liza's boy, Truman, got a silver watch and chain and her daughter Mary a gold ring, and when all the relatives were invited to come and be convinced, once and for all, of Uncle Roswell's prosperity and be filled with envy and reconciled with jelly and preserves and roast turkey with sage dressing and mince and chicken pie.
I'll holler," said Zaidee, with confidence, "and somebody will come. If only I could get boosted a little bit! Helen!" with a sudden inspiration, "you jump over here and I'll stand on your knee as I do on 'Liza's when she boosts me up into the apple-tree. Then I could climb right over." Helen hesitated. This plan did not strike her favourably. "Oh, Zaidee!
''E was thet different ter this one. 'E was a man as 'ad seen better days. 'E was a gentleman! She mouthed the word and emphasized it with an expressive nod. ''E was a gentleman and a Christian. 'E'd been in good circumstances in 'is time; an' 'e was a man of education and a teetotaller, for twenty-two years. At that moment Liza's mother appeared on the scene. 'Good evenin', Mrs.
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