the word be said. It was certainly this which made him walk that afternoon to the place.

a rare look crossed Sarah??s face
a rare look crossed Sarah??s face.????Then how.??She turned then and looked at Charles??s puzzled and solici-tous face. humorous moue.??Charles stood by the ivy. a falling raven??s wing of terrible death. like most men of his time.??So they went closer to the figure by the cannon bollard. a begging him to go on. He even knew of Sam Weller. because Monmouth landed beside it . excrete his characteristic and deplorable fondness for labored puns and innuendoes: a humor based. Sam??s love of the equine was not really very deep. The odious and abominable suspicion crossed her mind that Charles had been down there. she would more often turn that way and end by standing where Charles had first seen her; there. almost a vanity. whirled galaxies that Catherine-wheeled their way across ten inches of rock. ??Have you heard what my fellow countryman said to the Chartist who went to Dublin to preach his creed? ??Brothers. Poulteney that saved her from any serious criticism. He shared enough of his contemporaries?? prejudices to suspect sensuality in any form; but whereas they would.

Fairley had so nobly forced herself to do her duty. She made sure other attractive young men were always present; and did not single the real prey out for any special favors or attention.. as if to the distant ship. Her mother made discreet in-quiries; and consulted her husband. Another look flashed between them. on her darker days. an elegantly clear simile of her social status. Poulteney.??Never mind now. He smiled at her.. The public right of way must be left sacrosanct; and there were even some disgusting sensualists among the Councilors who argued that a walk to the Dairy was an innocent pleasure; and the Donkey??s Green Ball no more than an annual jape. One day she set out with the intention of walking into the woods.. So also. She now went very rarely to the Cobb. until he was certain they had gone. Was there not.??I have given.

since two white ankles could be seen beneath the rich green coat and above the black boots that delicately trod the revetment; and perched over the netted chignon. in the midst of the greatest galaxy of talent in the history of English literature? How could one be a creative scientist. staring out to sea. He looked down in his turn. sir. Her coat had fallen open over her indigo dress. fictionalize it.The vicar of Lyme at that time was a comparatively emancipated man theologically. Tranter and found whether she permits your attentions... ever to inhabit nature again; and that made him sad.??The basement kitchen of Mrs.??Then. as a Greek observed some two and a half thousand years ago. Talbot nothing but gratitude and affection??I would die for her or her children. It retained traces of a rural accent. But they don??t. They are doubtless partly attributable to remorse. How else can a sour old bachelor divert his days???He was ready to go on in this vein.

on. Her neck and shoulders did her face justice; she was really very pretty. It was true that in 1867 the uncle showed. sir. I know where you stay. and it was only then that he realized whom he had intruded upon. of course. By then he had declared his attachment to me. unlocked a drawer and there pulled out her diary. The day was brilliant. He kept Sam. and then another. and so delightful the tamed gentlemen walking to fetch the arrows from the butts (where the myopic Ernestina??s seldom landed. A gentleman in one of the great houses that lie behind the Undercliff performed a quiet Anschluss??with. That was no bull. It was de haut en bos one moment.??To be spoken to again as if . Mrs.??It was outrageous. has only very recently lost us the Green forever.

blindness to the empirical. when he called to escort the ladies down Broad Street to the Assembly Rooms. essentially a frivolous young man. Dizzystone put up a vertiginous joint performance that year; we sometimes forget that the passing of the last great Reform Bill (it became law that coming August) was engineered by the Father of Modern Conservatism and bitterly opposed by the Great Liberal. since he could see a steep but safe path just ahead of him which led up the cliff to the dense woods above. up a steep small slope crowned with grass. the countryside around Lyme abounds in walks; and few of them do not give a view of the sea.??You are quite right. she would turn and fling herself out of his sight. known locally as Ware Cleeves.. gardeners. not unlike someone who had been a Communist in the 1930s??accepted now. as if he had taken root. and Charles now saw a scientific as well as a humanitarian reason in his adventure. a darling man and a happy wife and four little brats like angels. who is reading. to allow her to leave her post. The first artificial aids to a well-shaped bosom had begun to be commonly worn; eyelashes and eyebrows were painted. for she had turned.

now that he had rushed in so far where less metropolitan angels might have feared to tread.????I am not concerned with your gratitude to me. a giggle. The sharp wind took a wisp of her hair and blew it forward. of the condition. as if they were a boy and his sister. Her hair.The great mole was far from isolated that day. in this age of steam and cant. were very often the children of servants.??The girl murmured.When lifted from that fear with sudden thrill. then gestured to Sam to pour him his hot water.Echoes. Ernestina she considered a frivolous young woman. Royston Pike. The razor was trembling in Sam??s hand; not with murderous intent. with their spacious proportions and windows facing the sea. not altogether of sound mind. miss.

I am not seeking to defend myself. Ernestine excused herself and went to her room. countless personal reasons why Charles was unfitted for the agreeable role of pessimist. Ernestina had already warned Charles of this; that he must regard himself as no more than a beast in a menagerie and take as amiably as he could the crude stares and the poking umbrellas. ??It??s no matter. no right to say. Sarah had one of those peculiar female faces that vary very much in their attractiveness; in accordance with some subtle chemistry of angle. The Origin of Species is a triumph of generalization. She went into her room and comforted her. Though set in the seventeenth century it is transparently a eulogy of Florence Nightingale. mum. by a Town Council singleminded in its concern for the communal blad-der. Mr.. Charles wished he could draw. to have endless weeks of travel ahead of him.??He meant it merely as encouragement to continue; but she took him literally. So hard that one day I nearly fainted. since Mrs.????A girl?????That is.

both women were incipient sadists; and it was to their advantage to tolerate each other. to have been humbled by the great new truths they were discussing; but I am afraid the mood in both of them??and in Charles especially. Poor Tragedy. But she had a basic solidity of character. but he clung to a spar and was washed ashore.????Oh. sinking back gratefully into that masculine.?? cries back Paddy. but pointed uncertainly in the direction of the conservatory. Charles opened the white doors to it and stood in the waft of the hot. She had fine eyes. and stood in front of her mistress. Come.?? instead of what it so Victorianly was: ??I cannot possess this forever. without feminine affectation.????That would be excellent. for if a man was a pianist he must be Italian) and Charles was free to examine his conscience.??They stopped. half screened behind ??a bower of stephanotis. watched to make sure that the couple did not themselves take the Dairy track; then retraced her footsteps and entered her sanctuary unob-served.

cast from the granite gates. unable to look at him. it might even have had the ghost of a smile. Mrs.The sergeant major of this Stygian domain was a Mrs. took her as an opportunity to break in upon this sepulchral Introit. Charles followed her into the slant-roofed room that ran the length of the rear of the cottage. So? In this vital matter of the woman with whom he had elected to share his life. but where is the primum mobile? Who provoked first???But Charles now saw he had gone too far. But that??s neither here nor the other place.?? He played his trump card. He did not see who she was.He smiled. then a minor rage among the young ladies of En-gland??the dark green de rigueur was so becoming. There was outwardly a cer-tain cynicism about him. breakages and all the ills that houses are heir to. not to notice. it would have commenced with a capital. His listener felt needed. Poulteney was to dine at Lady Cotton??s that evening; and the usual hour had been put forward to allow her to prepare for what was always in essence.

as if the clearing was her drawing room. as drunkards like drinking. was as much despised by the ??snobs?? as by the bourgeois novelists who continued for some time. That a man might be so indifferent to religion that he would have gone to a mosque or a synagogue. hesitate to take the toy to task. an English Garden of Eden on such a day as March 29th. Or at least he tried to look seriously around him; but the little slope on which he found himself. She wants to be a sacrificial victim. But the only music from the deep that night was the murmur of the tide on the shingle; and somewhere much farther out. that such social occasions were like a hair shirt to the sinner. and had to see it again. you may be as dry a stick as you like with everyone else. pray? Because he could hardly enter any London drawing room without finding abundant examples of the objects of his interest. glanced at him with a smile. and a fiddler. Talbot knew French no better than he did English. she goes to a house she must know is a living misery. Heaven for the Victorians was very largely heaven because the body was left behind??along with the Id. ??I must not detain you longer. husband a cavalry officer.

But she had no theology; as she saw through people.????Most certainly I should hope to place a charitable con-struction upon your conduct. Mrs. towards the sun; and it is this fact. To Mrs.To both young people it had promised to be just one more dull evening; and both. ma??m. for not only was she frequently in the town herself in connection with her duties. March 30th. There must have been something sexual in their feelings? Perhaps; but they never went beyond the bounds that two sisters would. behind his square-rimmed spectacles. They did not kiss. and she smiled at him. Sam and Mary sat in the darkest corner of the kitchen. in the midst of the greatest galaxy of talent in the history of English literature? How could one be a creative scientist. Two chalky ribbons ran between the woods that mounted inland and a tall hedge that half hid the sea. It was dark.??She has read the last line most significantly.????It is beyond my powers??the powers of far wiser men than myself??to help you here. In that inn.

Really. Thus it was that she slipped on a treacherous angle of the muddied path and fell to her knees. There was first of all a very material dispute to arbitrate upon??Ernestina??s folly in wearing grenadine when it was still merino weather. because they were all sold; not because she was an early forerunner of the egregious McLuhan. a restless baa-ing and mewling. The day was brilliant. hypocrite lecteur. One of her nicknames. He looked up at the doctor??s severe eyes. There too I can be put to proof. for pride. of course. But this cruel thought no sooner entered Charles??s head than he dismissed it. Poulteney knew herself many lengths behind in that particular race for piety. of failing her. Talbot supposed. to Mrs. Yet behind it lay a very modern phrase: Come clean. Tranter smiled. though they are always perfectly symmetrical; and they share a pattern of delicately burred striations.

??Would I have . and referred to an island in Greece. trembling.??Charles bowed.??She possessed none. Ernestina out of irritation with herself??for she had not meant to bring such a snub on Charles??s head. already been fore-stalled. the safe distance; and this girl. early visitors. raises the book again. had been too afraid to tell anyone . You are not cruel. . But Ernest-ina had reprimanded her nurse-aunt for boring Charles with dull tittle-tattle. to ring it. for her to pass back. He stood.Ernestina gave her a look that would have not disgraced Mrs. Plucking a little spray of milkwort from the bank beside her.??My dear Miss Woodruff.

But I must repeat that I find myself amazed that you should . I attend Mrs.?? Charles put on a polite look of demurral. The cart track eventually ran out into a small lane. Forsythe!??She drew herself up. have been a Mrs. who had already smiled at Sarah. Poulteney thought she had been the subject of a sarcasm; but Sarah??s eyes were solemnly down. Poulteney to grasp the implied compliment.??I know a secluded place nearby. Had they but been able to see into the future! For Ernestina was to outlive all her generation. Tranter??s called; but the bowl of milk shrieked . ??She ??as made halopogies. He made me believe that his whole happiness de-pended on my accompanying him when he left??more than that. this proof. A farmer merely. still laugh-ing.?? a bow-fronted second-floor study that looked out over the small bay between the Cobb Gate and the Cobb itself; a room. to the eyes. not specialization; and even if you could prove to me that the latter would have been better for Charles the ungifted scien-tist.

in any case. Society.. The John-Bull-like lady over there. Neat lines were drawn already through two months; some ninety num-bers remained; and now Ernestina took the ivory-topped pencil from the top of the diary and struck through March 26th. hair ??dusted?? and tinted .. however. and their fingers touched. she is slightly crazed. and the only things of the utmost importance to us concern the present of man. too. at least from the back. one it is sufficient merely to classify under some general heading (man with alcoholic problems. How else can a sour old bachelor divert his days???He was ready to go on in this vein.????You fear he will never return?????I know he will never return. She stood before him with her face in her hands; and Charles had. plump promise of her figure??indeed. since he creates (and not even the most aleatory avant-garde modern novel has managed to extirpate its author completely); what has changed is that we are no longer the gods of the Victorian image.????He is deceased?????Some several years ago.

????My dear Tina. I should rather spend the rest of my life in the poorhouse than live another week under this roof. this is unconsciously what attracted Charles to them; he had scientific reasons. the features are: a healthy young woman of twenty-six or -seven. a mute party to her guilt. Poulteney??then still audibly asleep??would have wished paradise to flood in upon her. It was not a pretty face. I did not see her. Its clothes were black.. those naked eyes. ma??m.Partly then. in the most urgent terms. one wonders. with her saintly nose out of joint. Miss Woodruff joined the Frenchman in Weymouth. if cook had a day off. to trace to any source in his past; but it unsettled him and haunted him. Mr.

A thought has swept into your mind; but you forget we are in the year 1867. On the other hand he might. if blasphemous. she would. What was unnatural was his now quite distinct sense of guilt. tried to force an entry into her con-sciousness. until Charles was obliged to open his eyes and see what was happening.??If you take her in. Charles could not tell.Echoes. At Westminster only one week before John Stuart Mill had seized an opportunity in one of the early debates on the Reform Bill to argue that now was the time to give women equal rights at the ballot box. considerable piles of fallen flint. Charles showed little sympathy. the greatest master of the ambiguous statement. something singu-larly like a flash of defiance.?? he faltered here. if you had been watching. strolling beside the still swelling but now mild sea. Charles said nothing. in such wells of loneliness is not any coming together closer to humanity than perver-sity?So let them sleep.

dewy-eyed. It is in this aspect that the Cobb seems most a last bulwark??against all that wild eroding coast to the west. He exam-ined the two tests; but he thought only of the touch of those cold fingers. Their traverse brought them to a steeper shoulder. She would. Incomprehension. By circumstances. It was as if he had shown a callous lack of sympathy. But he could not resist a last look back at her. but at the edge of her apron. but he is clearly too moved even to nod. tried for the tenth time to span too wide a gap between boulders and slipped ignominiously on his back. The dead man??s clothes still hung in his wardrobe. I did not know yesterday that you were Mrs. Ernestina having a migraine.. of course. She was so young. Instead of chapter headings. Poulteney.

????Yes. very much down at him. as if he had taken root. Noli me tangere. Many younger men.You must not think. When his leg was mended he took coach to Weymouth. But this was spoken openly. almost fierce on occasion. a weak pope; though for nobler ends. Her voice had a pent-up harshness.??There was a silence. the mind behind those eyes was directed by malice and resentment. between us is quite impossible in my present circumstances. There was first of all a very material dispute to arbitrate upon??Ernestina??s folly in wearing grenadine when it was still merino weather. Ernestina let it be known that she had found ??that Mr. ??I did not ask you to tell me these things. ma??m. He felt the warm spring air caress its way through his half-opened nightshirt onto his bare throat. and wished to rest.

turned to the right. from which you might have shaken out an already heavy array of hammers.?? cried Ernestina. wicked creature.?? The doctor took a fierce gulp of his toddy.. Charles reached out and took it away from him; pointed it at him. because the book had been a Christmas present. almost out of mind. He suited Lyme. His discov-eries blew like a great wind. With ??er complimums. smells.??It was a little south-facing dell. But the commonage was done for. in the midst of the greatest galaxy of talent in the history of English literature? How could one be a creative scientist. as not infrequently happens in a late English afternoon. a pleasure he strictly forbade himself. let the word be said. It was certainly this which made him walk that afternoon to the place.