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Frederic, Harold, 1856-1898

"The Market-Place"


It was to Julia that he had confided this mission,
and it was Julia who, in a round-about way, had disclosed
to him presently her mother's deep resolution to do
nothing of the sort. He laughed again at the added
defiance that this refurbishing of the old sign expressed,
and still was grinning broadly as he entered the shop
and pushed his way along to the rear.
She stood beside her desk as she seemed to have stood ever
since he could remember her--tall, placid, dull-eyed,
self-sufficient, exhaling as it were a kind of stubborn
yet competent listlessness. Her long, mannish countenance
expressed an undoubted interest in his presence, when she
recognized him, but he had no clear perception whether it
was pleased or otherwise. In their infrequent latter-day
encounters he had dropped the habit of kissing her,
and there was certainly no hint in her manner of expecting,
much less inviting, its renewal now--but upon a sudden
impulse he drew her to him with an arm flung round her
gaunt waist, smacked his lips with effusion upon her cheek.
Her surprise, as she withdrew herself somewhat forcefully
from his embrace, was plain enough. "Well!" she exclaimed
vaguely, and then looked at him. "You're getting fatter."
"No I'm not," he rejoined, with the earnestness belonging
to an important topic.


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