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Andrew Golding - A Tale of the Great Plague by Annie E. Keeling
page 54 of 122 (44%)

'It was a temptation,' he said, 'and I have fallen. I could have taken
you out of yon fool's way without laying a finger on him.'

'It's something of a disgrace indeed to have touched the beast--an oaken
staff had been fitter than your hand,' she replied. 'Merry England,
quotha! drunken England, I suppose he meant.'

'There is too much indeed of the unclean spirit of riot abroad now,'
answered Andrew; 'but it is not with violent hands that we can cast it
out. I sinfully forgot our Lord's word, "Resist not evil;"' and nothing
could brighten him, though Althea did her best all the way home.

There came the day when I rued Andrew's angry action as much as he did,
though not for the same reason. Ralph Lacy was not too drunk to be
unaware who had flung him aside into the dust; he never forgave it; and
his hand was plainly seen afterwards in the troubles that came upon us.
Another man also contributed something to them, though more innocently.

Mr. Poole now came very much about us, and would often talk about the
good family he belonged to and his hopes of speedy preferment; and
another favourite topic of his was the gay suits he had worn in his
secular days; he would dwell very fondly on the cut and trimmings of
these clothes. I think nothing misliked him in his profession but the
gravity of dress required from a clerical person; and I was often
tempted to ask, had his father been a tailor? He made the most of his
sober apparel, and loved to show a white, smooth, fat hand, with a fine
diamond on one finger; but he was unhappy in an insignificant person and
a foolish face, both of them something fatter than is graceful.

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