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It was as though the extravagance of this un-English violence had roused in him the full measure of a native moderation. The sight of the naked steel deeply disgusted him; he uttered a long sentence. What did Hughs call this disgracin' of the house at this time in the mornin'? Where was he brought up? Call 'imself a soldier, attackin' of old men and women in this way? He ought to be ashamed!
"It never was a one to cry," said Mrs. Hughs. "That's lucky, anyway. When did you feed it last?" Mrs. Hughs did not reply at first. "About half-past six last evening, sir." "What?" "It slept all night; but to-day, of course, I've been all torn to pieces; my milk's gone. I've tried it with the bottle, but it wouldn't take it."
The way of preparing this Fish in the best manner, in my Opinion, if it is large, is to roast it according to the following Receipt, which I had from Mr. John Hughs, an excellent Cook in London.
Then, as though guilty of afar too daring thought, drooped her head, and answered: "No." "Not one?" The little model repeated almost passionately: "No. I don't want any friends; I only want to be let alone." Hilary began speaking rapidly. "But these Hughs have not left you alone. I told you, I thought you ought to move; I've taken another room for you quite away from them.
I'll ketch me death standin' here, I will." Hughs made no answer leaning against the wall. The old butler regarded him severely. He did not take a wide or philosophic view of him, as a tortured human being, driven by the whips of passion in his dark blood; a creature whose moral nature was the warped, stunted tree his life had made it; a poor devil half destroyed by drink and by his wound.
He stole a glance at her out of his dark eyes, which, when narrowed, had a velvety look, like the body of a wild bee, then jerked his thumb at the picture of the little model. "It's about her I come to speak." Blanca faced him frigidly. "I have not the slightest wish to hear." Hughs looked round, as though to find something that would help him to proceed; his eyes lighted on Hilary's portrait.
The "Hughs!" that he uttered, as he passed his fingers over their trunks, and ears, and tails, were very distinct, nor did he fail to note the pawns, which were armed as archers. This exhibition lasted several minutes, during which time Judith and the Indian had all the rapture to themselves.
Hughs' face turned the colour of tomatoes. She poured forth words: "And leave him to that young girl and leave him to his wickedness! After I've been his wife eight years and borne him five! after I've done what I have for him! I never want no better husband than what he used to be, till she came with her pale face and her prinky manners, and and her mouth that you can tell she's bad by.
Twice only in those weeks while Hughs was in prison did Hilary see the girl. Once he met her when he was driving home; she blushed crimson and her eyes lighted up. And one morning, too, he passed her on the bench where they had sat together. She was staring straight before her, the corners of her mouth drooping discontentedly. She did not see him.
The next moment that white glare is gone, the clouds are no longer purple, fiery light no longer quivers and leaps along the hedgerows. The passion in Hughs' face was gone as soon. Bianca felt a sense of disappointment, as though she could have wished her life held a little more of that.
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