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Updated: June 5, 2025
"Oh, no, thank you, Master Marner," said Dolly, holding down Aaron's willing hands. "We must be going home now. And so I wish you good-bye, Master Marner; and if you ever feel anyways bad in your inside, as you can't fend for yourself, I'll come and clean up for you, and get you a bit o' victual, and willing.
Why this preternatural felon should be obliged to wait till the door was left unlocked, was a question which did not present itself. "It isn't Jem Rodney as has done this work, Master Marner," said the landlord. "You mustn't be a-casting your eye at poor Jem.
"Anybody 'ud think the angils in heaven couldn't be prettier," said Dolly, rubbing the golden curls and kissing them. "And to think of its being covered wi' them dirty rags and the poor mother froze to death; but there's Them as took care of it, and brought it to your door, Master Marner. The door was open, and it walked in over the snow, like as if it had been a little starved robin.
In the palace there were half a dozen officers' quarters, and these had been apportioned to the married; consequently the palace had that air of homeliness which is supposed to be lacking in the quarters of single men. As I was crossing the square I heard some one running after me, and, turning, I faced Fitz. Fitz Marner usually called Fitz was my second in command and two years my junior.
Eliza Marner kept the promise she had made before marriage faithfully. If she ever felt in her heart any jealousy as she saw Polly growing up a pretty bright little maiden, as different to the usual child product of Varley as could well be, she was wise enough never to express her thoughts, and behaved with motherly kindness to her in the evening hours spent at home.
"He'd better not say again as it was me robbed him," cried Jem Rodney, hastily. "What could I ha' done with his money? I could as easy steal the parson's surplice, and wear it." "Hold your tongue, Jem, and let's hear what he's got to say," said the landlord. "Now then, Master Marner." Silas now told his story, under frequent questioning as the mysterious character of the robbery became evident.
"Dost think," Bill suggested after another long pause, "that if we got up a sort of depitation Luke Marner and four or five other steady chaps as knows him; yes, and Polly Powlett, she could do the talking to go to her and tell her what a thundering dad un he is dost think it would do any good?"
"I'm glad to hear it, sir," said Marner, with gathering excitement; "but repentance doesn't alter what's been going on for sixteen year. Your coming now and saying "I'm her father" doesn't alter the feelings inside us. It's me she's been calling her father ever since she could say the word."
"Aye, aye, make him sit down," said several voices at once, well pleased that the reality of ghosts remained still an open question. The landlord forced Marner to take off his coat, and then to sit down on a chair aloof from every one else, in the centre of the circle and in the direct rays of the fire.
I remember the evening of the tailor's speech that I felt reproached because no poet or artist has endeared the sweaters' victim to us as George Eliot has made us love the belated weaver, Silas Marner.
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