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Mary - A Fiction by Mary Wollstonecraft
page 75 of 86 (87%)
however, she mentioned to him, that she earnestly desired to obtain a
place in one of the public offices for Ann's brother, as the family were
again in a declining way.

Henry attended, made a few enquiries, and dropped the subject; but the
following week, she heard him enter with unusual haste; it was to inform
her, that he had made interest with a person of some consequence, whom
he had once obliged in a very disagreeable exigency, in a foreign
country; and that he had procured a place for her friend, which would
infallibly lead to something better, if he behaved with propriety. Mary
could not speak to thank him; emotions of gratitude and love suffused
her face; her blood eloquently spoke. She delighted to receive benefits
through the medium of her fellow creatures; but to receive them from
Henry was exquisite pleasure.

As the summer advanced, Henry grew worse; the closeness of the air, in
the metropolis, affected his breath; and his mother insisted on his
fixing on some place in the country, where she would accompany him. He
could not think of going far off, but chose a little village on the
banks of the Thames, near Mary's dwelling: he then introduced her to his
mother.

They frequently went down the river in a boat; Henry would take his
violin, and Mary would sometimes sing, or read, to them. She pleased his
mother; she inchanted him. It was an advantage to Mary that friendship
first possessed her heart; it opened it to all the softer sentiments of
humanity:--and when this first affection was torn away, a similar one
sprung up, with a still tenderer sentiment added to it.

The last evening they were on the water, the clouds grew suddenly black,
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