She liked his face; it had on it the suggestion of gentleness, of fineness. 58 \"Why will you not touch me?\" She cried out, sitting up, her head in her hands. “We have come too close together for me to believe it. The cause of this uproar was soon manifest. Mischief bubbled up in her. We’re handfuls. ” He repeated several times that he would trust her, though it remained obscure just exactly where the trust came in. ’ ‘That is what you think? Let us try!’ ‘Don’t be idiotic!’ She was backing from him, reaching through one of the slits she had carefully manufactured in her petticoat. A world of haystacks, bean-stacks, and strawricks flanked the granges adjoining his habitation; the yard was crowded with poultry, pigeons were feeding at his feet, cattle were being driven towards the stall, horses led to the stable, a large mastiff was rattling his chain, and stalking majestically in front of his kennel, while a number of farming-men were passing and repassing about their various occupations. Over an old crazy bedstead was thrown a squalid, patchwork counterpane; and upon the counterpane lay a black hood and scarf, a pair of bodice of the cumbrous form in vogue at the beginning of the last century, and some other articles of female attire. Except for the dull eyes and the extreme pallor of his face, there was nothing else to indicate that he was deep in liquor.
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