He renewed his supplications to Sharples, but with no better success than heretofore; and the greater part of the night was passed by him and the poor widow, whose anxiety, if possible, exceeded his own, in the most miserable state imaginable. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. To a woman she might have confided; but to this man, kindly as he was, it was unthinkable. "Whatever your intelligence may be I will strive to bear it. Nothing to do; nothing for the hands, the mind, the heart. Three times he uttered a phrase: "A djinn in a blue-serge coat!" And each time he would follow it with a chuckle—the chuckle of a soul in damnation. He sat down beside her just as the room became darker. He had a flattish, perhaps, it should be called, a flattened nose, and a brown, leathernlooking hide, that seemed as if it had not unfrequently undergone the process of tanning. That’s how things are; that’s the order of the world. Do not remain with me. This was to pass under the arch, along the narrow ledge of the starling, and, if possible, attain the eastern platform, where, protected by the bridge, he would suffer less from the excessive violence of the gale. She hugged Lucy, who had finished eating. " So saying, he hurried up stairs, opened the back door, and was quickly in the yard. Everything was blurred.
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