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Frederic, Harold, 1856-1898

"The Market-Place"

"
The mother's air displayed resigned acquiescence rather
than conviction. "Well--if you really think it's best,"
she began, "I don't know that I ought to object.
Goodness knows, I don't want to stand in their way.
Ever since you sent that four hundred pounds,
it hasn't seemed as if they were my children at all.
They've scarcely listened to me. And now you come,
and propose to take them out of my hands altogether--and
all I can say is--I hope you feel entirely justified.
And so, shall I write them to come home? When do you think
of starting? Julia ought to have some travelling clothes."
"I can wait till you get her ready--only you must hurry
up about it."
Remembering something, he took out his cheque-book,
and spread it on the desk. "I will give you back
that thirty," he said, as he wrote, "and here's a hundred
to get the youngsters ready. You won't waste any time,
will you? and if you want more tell me."
A customer had entered the shop, and Thorpe made it
the occasion for leaving.
His sister, looking after her brother with the cheque in
her hand, was conscious of a thought which seemed to spell
itself out in visible letters before her mental vision.
"Even now I don't believe in him," the impalpable legend ran.

CHAPTER IX

GENERAL KERVICK was by habit a punctual man, and Thorpe
found him hovering, carefully gloved and fur-coated, in
the neighbourhood of the luncheon-room when he arrived.


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