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Collins, Wilkie, 1824-1889

"The Moonstone"

A walk is the very thing I was longing
for."
"It's past two," I gently suggested. "And the afternoon service, Rachel,
begins at three."
"How can you expect me to go to church again," she asked, petulantly,
"with such a headache as mine?"
Mr. Bruff officiously opened the door for her. In another minute more
they were both out of the house. I don't know when I have felt the
solemn duty of interfering so strongly as I felt it at that moment.
But what was to be done? Nothing was to be done but to interfere at the
first opportunity, later in the day.
On my return from the afternoon service I found that they had just got
back. One look at them told me that the lawyer had said what he wanted
to say. I had never before seen Rachel so silent and so thoughtful. I
had never before seen Mr. Bruff pay her such devoted attention, and look
at her with such marked respect. He had (or pretended that he had) an
engagement to dinner that day--and he took an early leave of us all;
intending to go back to London by the first train the next morning.
"Are you sure of your own resolution?" he said to Rachel at the door.
"Quite sure," she answered--and so they parted.


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