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Updated: May 21, 2025
O'Neill was a Roman Catholic, and who had a confused notion that a Roman Catholic must be a very wicked, dangerous being, thought that there might be a great deal in the verger's suggestions; and observed that a very watchful eye ought to be kept upon this Irish glover, who had come to settle at Hereford nobody knew why, and who seemed to have money at command nobody knew how.
O'Neill was a Roman Catholic, and who had a confused notion that a Roman Catholic must be a very wicked, dangerous being, thought that there might be a great deal in the verger's suggestions, and observed that a very watchful eye ought to be kept upon this Irish glover, who had come to settle at Hereford nobody knew why, and who seemed to have money at command nobody knew how.
Hill, with a significant look at Phoebe, remarked that it was no proper time to talk or think of good men, or bad men, or Irishmen, or any men, especially for a verger's daughter. We pass over in silence the many conjectures that were made by several of the congregation concerning the reason why Miss Phoebe Hill should appear in such a shameful shabby pair of gloves on a Sunday.
"What does that mean?" he asked the Verger. "God with us," snorted Father Varennes. "I suppose the poor wretches actually believe He is." The Abbe' was waiting for them in the aisle, and he took from them the flags and the helmet. He had heard the Verger's reply, and guessed what the question must have been.
Prokofy Ignatitch, a veteran soldier, the church verger's assistant, is standing behind the candle cupboard. Raising his eyebrows and stroking his beard he explains in a half-whisper to an old woman: "Matins will be in the evening to-day, directly after vespers. And they will ring for the 'hours' to-morrow between seven and eight. Do you understand? Between seven and eight."
The verger scratched his head, and looked doubtfully at Henry Dunbar. That gentleman was looking straight before him, and seemed quite unconscious of the verger's glance. "I can't quite exactly say how long it was, sir," the old man answered, after a pause. "Why can't you say exactly?"
He agreed, therefore, to take the lodging then and there, and money down, possession to be had next evening, on condition that reference was permitted him to Mr. Jasper as occupying the gatehouse, of which on the other side of the gateway, the Verger's hole-in-the-wall was an appanage or subsidiary part. The poor dear gentleman was very solitary and very sad, Mrs.
Hill, when he apprehended that, after all he had said, the mountain might at last bring forth a rat. Mr. Marshal, who instantly saw what passed in the verger's mind, relieved him from this fear by refraining even from a smile on this occasion. He only said to the child, in a grave manner, "I am afraid, my dear, we shall be obliged to spoil your diversion. Mr.
Nice state of things, wasn't it?" "Rather! But I'd love to go up there. I say, the verger's still at his tea. Shall we try?" "Right-o! I'm game if you are!" By the north porch there was a small oak door studded with nails. Generally this was kept locked, but to-day, by a miracle of good fortune, it happened to be open.
I don't yet understand what part I have been made to play, but it's evident that you have made use of me to serve some purpose of your own, and I propose to know the reason why." Count Ottaviano advanced with an imploring gesture. "Sir," he pleaded, "you permit me to speak?" "I expect you to," cried Wyant. "But not here," he added, hearing the clank of the verger's keys.
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