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Updated: June 6, 2025
"Maryann, you go!" said she, fluttering under the onset of a crowd of romantic possibilities. "O ma'am see, here's a mess!" The argument was unanswerable after a glance at Maryann. "Liddy you must." said Bathsheba. Liddy held up her hands and arms, coated with dust from the rubbish they were sorting, and looked implor- ingly at her mistress. "There Mrs.
"Maryhann," said Jemima, solemnly, "I don't believe there's no such things as cannibals." "No more do I, Jemimar did you speak, Mr Richards?" inquired Maryann, with a sudden assumption of dignity.
Commenting on his sudden departure, two days afterwards, Maryann said, in strict confidence, to her bosom friend "Jemimar," that she "know'd it would 'appen or somethink simular, for, even w'en a hinfant, he had refused to larf at her most smudgin' blandishments; and that she knew somethink strange would come of it, though she would willingly have given her last shilling to have prevented it, but nothink was of any use tryin' of w'en one couldn't do it, as her 'usband, as was in the mutton-pie line, said to the doctor the night afore he died, and that her 'art was quite broken about it, so it was."
Is Maryann still with my with Mrs Osten?" "Yes, sir, she is, an' wot's more, she aint likely to quit in a 'urry. W'y, sir, that 'ooman 'as 'ad no fewer than six hoffers of marriage, an' 'as refused 'em all for love of the old lady.
Took on her uncle's farm, who died suddenly. Used to measure his money in half-pint cups. They say now that she've business in every bank in Casterbridge, and thinks no more of playing pitch-and-toss sovereign than you and I, do pitch-halfpenny not a bit in the world, shepherd." "That's she, back there upon the pony," said Maryann; "wi' her face a-covered up in that black cloth with holes in it."
The coachman, who was devotedly engaged with his fifth slice of buttered toast, protested solemnly that he had not spoken, but admitted that he had experienced a tendency to choke owing to crumbs just at the point when Maryann happened to allude to the cannibals.
Maryann stalked off towards the rick and met Oak at the foot of the ladder. She delivered her message. "Where is your master the farmer?" asked Gabriel, kindling with the idea of getting employment that seemed to strike him now. "'Tisn't a master; 'tis a mistress, shepherd." "A woman farmer?" "Ay, 'a b'lieve, and a rich one too!" said a bystander. "Lately 'a came here from a distance.
Leaving her instructions with Gabriel and Maryann, that they were to see everything carefully locked up for the night, she went out of the house just at the close of a timely thunder-shower, which had refined the air, and daintily bathed the coat of the land, though all beneath was dry as ever.
That matters should continue pleasant Maryann spoke, who, what with her brown complexion, and the working wrapper of rusty linsey, had at present the mellow hue of an old sketch in oils notably some of Nicholas Poussin's: "Do anybody know of a crooked man, or a lame, or any second-hand fellow at all that would do for poor me?" said Maryann. "A perfect one I don't expect to at my time of life.
She was tall and fresh, with dark, young, expressionless eyes, and well-drawn brows, and the immature softness and mindlessness of the sensuous Celtic type. 'Ho, Maryann! Evenin', Maryann! How's Maryann, now? came the multiple greeting. She replied to everybody in a soft voice, a strange, soft aplomb that was very attractive.
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