Then she went below. What can she be? The wife of a country tradesman, or a duchess? And such a meek little husband too. When she got back to her questions again in the monotonous high-road that led up the hill, she found the image of Mr. ’ She tries every way of earning a living and fails. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. . He looked distant, irritated. Ben watched these manoeuvres with great interest, and strained every sinew in his frame to keep ahead of the other boats. I can’t love you. Having read the three first verses of the impressive service appointed for the burial of the dead, he returned to the church, whither the coffin was carried through the south-western door, and placed in the centre of the aisle—Mr. "Don't go, I beg of you!" she implored.
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