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Lorna Doone - A Romance of Exmoor by R. D. (Richard Doddridge) Blackmore
page 52 of 882 (05%)
labourer at ditch-work. Only in his mouth and eyes, his gait, and most
of all his voice, even a child could know and feel that here was no
ditch-labourer. Good cause he has found since then, perhaps, to wish
that he had been one.

With his white locks moving upon his coat, he stopped and looked down
at my mother, and she could not help herself but curtsey under the fixed
black gazing.

"Good woman, you are none of us. Who has brought you hither? Young men
must be young--but I have had too much of this work."

And he scowled at my mother, for her comeliness; and yet looked under
his eyelids as if he liked her for it. But as for her, in her depth of
love-grief, it struck scorn upon her womanhood; and in the flash she
spoke.

"What you mean I know not. Traitors! cut-throats! cowards! I am here to
ask for my husband." She could not say any more, because her heart
was now too much for her, coming hard in her throat and mouth; but she
opened up her eyes at him.

"Madam," said Sir Ensor Doone--being born a gentleman, although a very
bad one--"I crave pardon of you. My eyes are old, or I might have known.
Now, if we have your husband prisoner, he shall go free without ransoms,
because I have insulted you."

"Sir," said my mother, being suddenly taken away with sorrow, because of
his gracious manner, "please to let me cry a bit."

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