She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. Here one might live the life of golden days. 5. “I believe she’s dressing up-stairs—now. She was glad to join in the stream of hurrying homeward workers that was now welling out of a thousand places of employment, and to imitate their driven, preoccupied haste. “I am sure that you are. Capes? Well, think what it must be to live in them—soul and mind and body! It’s fun for a man to jest at our position. ’ ‘I could have done so at the first and saved you the pain,’ she told him merrily.
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