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Collins, Wilkie, 1824-1889

"The Moonstone"

Mr. Franklin kissed her. I waved
my hand as much as to say, "You're heartily welcome, sir." Some of the
other female servants appeared, peeping after him round the corner.
He was one of those men whom the women all like. At the last moment,
I stopped the pony chaise, and begged as a favour that he would let
us hear from him by letter. He didn't seem to heed what I said--he was
looking round from one thing to another, taking a sort of farewell of
the old house and grounds. "Tell us where you are going to, sir!" I
said, holding on by the chaise, and trying to get at his future plans
in that way. Mr. Franklin pulled his hat down suddenly over his eyes.
"Going?" says he, echoing the word after me. "I am going to the devil!"
The pony started at the word, as if he had felt a Christian horror of
it. "God bless you, sir, go where you may!" was all I had time to say,
before he was out of sight and hearing. A sweet and pleasant gentleman!
With all his faults and follies, a sweet and pleasant gentleman! He left
a sad gap behind him, when he left my lady's house.
It was dull and dreary enough, when the long summer evening closed in,
on that Saturday night.


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