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Phillpotts, Eden, 1862-1960

"Lying Prophets"

What was in that girl's heart,
she greatly wondered. Did Milly Penn feel for long-legged Mark Taskes what
Joan felt for "Mister Jan"? Was it possible that any other woman had ever
experienced similar mysterious splendors of mind? She could not tell, but
it seemed unlikely to her; it appeared improbable that an ordinary man had
power to inspire another heart with such golden magic as glorified her own.
Presently she departed with her stepmother, whereupon Sally Trevennick
relieved her pent-up feelings.
"Thank the Lard that chitter-faaced wummon edn' gwaine to the weddin' any
ways! Us knaws she's a dear good sawl 'nough; but what wi' her sour voice,
an' her sour way o' talkin', an' her sour 'pinions, she'm enough to set a
rat-trap's teeth on edge."


CHAPTER TEN
MOONLIGHT

That evening Thomasin had another spasm of face-ache and went to bed soon
after drinking tea. Michael was due at home about ten o'clock or earlier,
and Joan--having set out supper, made all ready, and ascertained that her
stepmother had gone to sleep--walked out to the pierhead, there to wait for
Mr. Tregenza and Tom. Under moonlight, the returning luggers crept
homeward, like inky silhouettes on a background of dull silver. Every
moment added to the forest of masts anchored at the moorings outside the
harbor; every minute another rowing-boat shot between the granite piers,
slid silently into the darkness under shore, leaving moonlit rings widening
out behind at each dip of the oars.


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