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Updated: June 1, 2025
Putting on her bonnet and shawl, and taking her basket, she went down-stairs with her child, determined, if possible, to get away unobserved, and after doing so, to send back, by any means that offered, the only dollar she possessed in the world to the landlady. No one met her on the stairs, and she passed the parlour-door unobserved.
And this it is: After my master had dined, he took a turn into the stables, to look at his stud of horses; and, when he came in, he opened the parlour-door, where Mrs. Jewkes and I sat at dinner; and, at his entrance, we both rose up; but he said, Sit still, sit still, and let me see how you eat your victuals, Pamela. O, said Mrs. Jewkes, very poorly, indeed, sir!
There can be no home at all if there is not that mystical house, 'not made with hands, where spirits blend and dwell together for ever." Just then the parlour-door opened quietly, and Andrew Beaton came into the room. "Mother is giving you some of her notions," he said. "She says that all the joys of heaven must first have had their beginnings in our souls on earth."
And yet at the same time, he was certainly one of the greatest bubbles to them, I think, that history can produce: his rhetorick and conduct were at perpetual handy-cuffs. Never did the parlour-door open but his philosophy or his principles fell a victim to it; three drops of oil with a feather, and a smart stroke of a hammer, had saved his honour for ever.
No one in the kitchen itself, certainly. The little parlour-door stood open. She thought she had shut it. Could she be sure? She looked in, and could see no one advanced into the room, still seeing no one and started suddenly forward as the door swung to behind her. She turned terrified, and found herself alone with the man she most dreaded her husband.
He glanced over them in turn, and commenced leisurely the puff contemplative. "Don't happen to have a grudge of e'er a kind against old Bob, Steeve?" "Not I!" Mrs. Boulby herself brought his glass to Stephen, and, retreating, left the parlour-door open. "What causes you for to think him mad, Steeve?"
I paused, almost out of breath from the rapidity with which I had spoken; and without giving him time to renew the conversation, I hastily quitted the room, leaving him in a paroxysm of rage and mortification. As I ascended the stairs, I heard him open the parlour-door with violence, and take two or three rapid strides in the direction in which I was moving.
Dunbar went in unannounced. The cashier closed the parlour-door and returned to his desk in the public office. The junior partner was sitting at an office table near the fire writing, but he rose as the banker entered the room, and went forward to meet him. "You are very punctual, Mr. Dunbar," he said. "Yes, I am generally punctual." The two men shook hands, and Mr.
Mr Shaw presently came, to say that tea was ready. "I am too big a baby to be carried now," cried Hugh, gaily. "Let me try if I cannot go alone." "Why, there is the step at the parlour-door," said Mr Shaw, doubtfully. "At any rate, stop till I bring a light." But Hugh followed close upon his uncle's heels, and was over the step before his aunt supposed he was half way across the hall.
'Twas the charm you spoke about: an' that same midnight I delved a hole by the dreshold an' buried the coat, whisperin', 'Man, come back, come back to me! as Aun' Lesnewth had a-taught me, times afore. "But she, the pale woman, had a-seen me, dro' a chink o' the parlour-door, as I tuk the coat down. An' she knowed what I tuk it for.
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