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Updated: August 1, 2024
Of course it's a much bigger room than I'm generally accustomed to occupy, as you know, ma'am. And I just threw up the window it's what they call a guillotine window and there I saw the water, you know, ma'am, in what they call the moat " "Yes," said Miss Farrow languidly. "Yes, Pegler, go on." "As I looked down, ma'am, I had an awful turn.
"Of course, I admit that in the great majority of instances those who think they see what's commonly called a ghost probably see no ghost at all," said Sir Lyon thoughtfully. "They've heard that a ghost is there, and therefore they think they see it." "Then," said Varick, turning on him, "you don't believe Pegler did see the ghost of Dame Grizel Fauncey?" Sir Lyon smiled.
She looks rather excited-like. But as you know, ma'am, that's a good sign with her." "Yes, I think it is, Pegler." Pegler slipped noiselessly away, and then Blanche opened the envelope containing Mark Gifford's long-delayed Christmas letter. "Home Office, "December 23rd.
"D'you really mean that you won't sleep next door to-night, Pegler?" "I wouldn't be fit to do my work to-morrow if I did, ma'am." And Miss Farrow quite understood that that was Pegler's polite way of saying that she most definitely did refuse to sleep in the room next door. "I wish the ghost had come in here, instead of worrying you!"
She sprang up from her deep chair with the lightness of a girl, though she was over forty; and went and took the other's hand. "Pegler!" she exclaimed. "What's the matter, you dear old thing?" But Pegler wrenched away her hand, rather ungraciously. "After two such nights as I've had," she muttered, "it's no wonder I'm a bit upset."
And then you must go away, for it isn't proper that you should be here, at this time of the morning, now that we're engaged!" That same morning, but a good deal later, Blanche Farrow woke with a start to find Pegler standing at her bedside with just one letter in her hand. Pegler was smiling. It was not a real smile, but just a general softening of her plain, severe face.
She was so very earnest and injured, that Mr. Gradgrind, shocked by the possibility which dawned upon him, said in a gentler tone: 'Do you deny, then, madam, that you left your son to to be brought up in the gutter? 'Josiah in the gutter! exclaimed Mrs. Pegler. 'No such a thing, sir. Never! For shame on you!
Gradgrind joined them before they had gone very far, and spoke with much interest of Stephen Blackpool; for whom he thought this signal failure of the suspicions against Mrs. Pegler was likely to work well. As to the whelp; throughout this scene as on all other late occasions, he had stuck close to Bounderby.
Walking up and down, walking up and down, her face oh, ma'am, her face staring-like most 'orrible and wringing her hands. Then she'd go over to the window, lean out, and disappear, down into the black water!" In a calmer tone Pegler added: "The moat used to be much bigger and deeper than it is now, ma'am so they all say." "All?" said Miss Farrow sharply. "Who do you mean by 'all'?"
Yes, in spite of this stupid little contretemps about Pegler, she was glad indeed that circumstances over which she had had rather more control than she liked to think had made it impossible for her to go out to Monte Carlo this winter.
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