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Traill struggled back to his shop, against wind and treacherous ice, thinking what kind of a bed might be contrived for the sick man for the night. In the morning the daft auld body could be hurried, willy-nilly, to a bed in the infirmary. As for wee Bobby he wouldn't mind if And there he ran into his own wide-flung door. A gale blew through the hastily deserted place.
She recalled Sally's face as she had last seen it, white, drawn, the eyes hollow, the lips but faintly tinged with pink. Now it was in that room, the face that she had lifted and kissed before she had said how wonderful she was. But what was it looking like now? What was it looking like now, alone in that awful silence? Traill strode back into the room. "What are you going to do?" asked Janet.
Landor. Jane Austen. Pride and Prejudice, in Everyman's Library, Pocket Classics, etc. HISTORY. Text-book, Montgomery, pp. 323-357; Cheyney, 576-632. General Works. Green, X, 2-4, Traill, Gardiner, Macaulay, etc. Special Works.
The whole long night had to be passed through with that haunting speculation which now so frequently beset her the wondering of what Traill was doing, the questioning in what woman's arms he was finding the joy of desire which he had found in hers. What did it signify then, this evening in which she let go the strained reserve which at any other time she would have retained?
"Break away, break away!" called the master; and when neither of them loosed his hold for fear the other would strike, he took him whom they called Jim by the shoulder and pushed him bodily backwards. The other followed him with a blow like the arm of a windmill in a gale. Traill chuckled with delight between his hands.
Traill, and she took back the threepence." "Dear! and what did the dog do then, snarl or bite?" "Not so; he knew he was in his rights, and did not lower himself by showing bad temper.
Traill, disarmed, defenceless, weighing every possibility, every intention, was still faced with the unequal balance, her gentle faith in the best of him dragging down the scale. By the time they had reached the stairway to his rooms, he had forged his mind to its decision. This once he would let her come to his rooms this once, but never again. He knew his instincts and refused to trust them.
For some moments she stood there, watching the doors which a powdered flunkey had swung to after their entrance. Wild suggestions flung themselves before her consideration. She would go back to her room, dress herself in the best frock that Traill had given her and go to supper there herself. She would wait there an hour, an hour and a half if necessary, to see if he went home with them.
"If I were, it 'ud scarcely be for me to say. But I don't think I am. I suppose I'm not ugly. When I'm in good spirits, I sometimes go so far as to think I'm not actually plain. But she's pretty really pretty." Her eyes pointed in the direction of her last remark. Traill leant forward, facing her, putting both hands on the arms of the chair in which she was sitting.
Having brought herself through a thousand temptings to the determination that she must not keep the bangle which Traill had given her, Sally felt incensed with circumstances, incensed with everything, that she had been hindered in the carrying out of her design.
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