|9psv横版游戏|邵焌晨|The News

A blue pack was in Bond's hands and he had started to ' deal.

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Mrs. Joram was so unhappy that her husband came out to take care of her. Leaving them together, I went home to Peggotty's; more melancholy myself, if possible, than I had been yet.

Mary Goodnight blushed. "Did I not! That was a fine question to get me mixed up with. Alexander's was noncommittal, and I finally had to go to the Special Branch. I shan't be able to show my face there for weeks. Heaven knows what they must think of you. That place is a, is a, er"-she wrinkled her nose-"it's a famous disorderly house in Sav' La Mar." I had some shadowy idea of endeavouring to evade the question, by replying that I thought him a very nice gentleman; but my aunt was not to be so put off, for she laid her work down in her lap, and said, folding her hands upon it:

The papers in which, so lately, the heart-stirring deeds of the living hero followed each other in rapid succession, were now, with a mournful sameness, as chilling to the excited imagination as the still scene they represented, filled, from end to end, with the solemn lying in state of the unconscious corse, the funeral lighting of the chamber of death, the silent mourners, who watched with the dead night and day, the sombre splendours of the body’s last receptacle. The numerous banners waving their shattered remnants over it; the noiseless steps of the[5] spectators, as they approached, gazed, and passed, treading a flooring that returned no echo to their footfalls; the firing of minute guns by the forts, the lowering of their colours half mast high, by all the vessels at the Nore, and in the harbour; the muffled peal of the bells; in short, every demonstration of what was the feeling of all, in which a nation could unite its myriad tongues in one voice of woe.


Having made up my mind to break my principle, I started at once from Dublin to London. I arrived there on the morning of Thursday, 3d of November, and left it on the evening of Friday. In the meantime I had made my agreement with Messrs. Smith & Elder, and had arranged my plot. But when in London, I first went to Edward Chapman, at 193 Piccadilly. If the novel I was then writing for him would suit the Cornhill, might I consider my arrangement with him to be at an end? Yes; I might. But if that story would not suit the Cornhill, was I to consider my arrangement with him as still standing — that agreement requiring that my MS. should be in his hands in the following March? As to that, I might do as I pleased. In our dealings together Mr. Edward Chapman always acceded to every suggestion made to him. He never refused a book, and never haggled at a price. Then I hurried into the City, and had my first interview with Mr. George Smith. When he heard that Castle Richmond was an Irish story, he begged that I would endeavour to frame some other for his magazine. He was sure that an Irish story would not do for a commencement — and he suggested the Church, as though it were my peculiar subject. I told him that Castle Richmond would have to “come out” while any other novel that I might write for him would be running through the magazine — but to that he expressed himself altogether indifferent. He wanted an English tale, on English life, with a clerical flavour. On these orders I went to work, and framed what I suppose I must call the plot of Framley Parsonage.

But whatsoe'er I bear, let him go free!