The Claverings by Anthony Trollope
page 48 of 714 (06%)
page 48 of 714 (06%)
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the fire on one side with a handkerchief over her lap, and Mr. Burton
had been comfortable with his arm-chair and his slippers on the other side. When tea was over, Harry had made his parting speech to Mrs. Burton, and that lady had kissed him, and bade God bless him. "I'll see you for a moment before you go, in my office, Harry," Mr. Burton had said. Then Harry had gone down stairs, and some one else had gone boldly with him, and they two were sitting together in the dingy brown room. After that I need hardly tell my reader what had become of Harry Clavering's perpetual, life-enduring heart's misery. He and Florence were sitting on the old horsehair sofa and Florence's hand was in his. "My darling," he said, "how am I to live for the next two years?" "You mean five years, Harry." "No; I mean two--that is, two, unless I can make the time less. I believe you'd be better pleased to think it was ten." "Much better pleased to think it was ten than to have no such hope at all. Of course we shall see each other. It's not as though you were going to New Zealand." "I almost wish I were. One would agree then as to the necessity of this cursed delay." "Harry, Harry!" "It is accursed. The prudence of the World in these latter days seems to me to be more abominable than all its other iniquities." |
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