The faithful fellow will never leave me. He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance. ‘There is little I can do at present. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. Mrs Sindlesham raised her brows. Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg. Making up a similar story to that which he had told the old woman, he said he wanted to purchase a hammer and a file. ‘Never fear, my love. She attended to that, and then dismissed it as unimportant. The sun shined weakly through brief pinpricks 90 in the thick cloud cover, the weather was brewing a storm.
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