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"Sad fur them, I reckon, but not fur me. I'm well shut of them."
TWO:This evening he sat very still beside the dead. Only once he drew down the sheet from his father's face and gazed at the calm features, already wearing that strange sculpt look which is the gift of death. The peaceful lips, the folded hands, seemed part of an embracing restfulness. Reuben's heart warmed with a love in which was little grief. He thought of his father's lifecalm, kindly, comfortable, ambitionless. He had[Pg 23] been happy; having wanted little he had attained it and had died enjoying it.However, next Sunday he astonished his family by saying he would accompany them to church. Hitherto Reuben's churchmanship had been entirely political, he had hardly ever been inside Peasmarsh church since his marriage, except for the christenings of his childrenthough he considered himself one of the pillars of the Establishment. His family were exceedingly suspicious of this change of heart, and the girls whispered guiltily together. "He's found out," said Caro, and Tilly sighed.
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THREE:"Could you do it wud all the colours on it and all that?all the pinks you git on it sometimes, and the lovely yaller the gorse m?akes?"

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THREE:Unprepared for such an attack, and now no longer formidable, the insurgents, panic struck, fled on all sides; and, after a brief struggle, many of the leaders were cut down or secured. Numbers of the people perished, and Richard once more entered the Tower in triumph.

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THREE:Tyler, during the colloquy, had seized his axe, and though it was not raised above his saddle-bow, yet the convulsive motion of the hand as it grasped the weapon, might seem to indicate danger to the young king. Richard was now surrounded by his retinue, among whom was William Walworth, the Lord Mayor, who had crossed over from the priory on perceiving his peril.

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THREE:God save the Queen!"

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THREE:"Because I hate it. It's spoiling your life. It's making a beast and a maniac of you. You think of nothingabsolutely nothingbut a miserable rubbish-heap that most people would be throwing their old kettles on."
THREE:"Are you striving to recollect?" asked Sir Robert, without any symptoms of anger.March blew some warm twilights to Peasmarsh, and the choristers began their summer lingering. Bessie and Robert often took the longer way home by Ellenwhornehe would not leave her now till they were at her cottage door, and often he would run home hare-footed from Eggs Hole, afraid that he might be shut out of Odiam, and perhaps his precious comradeship discovered and put under the tyrant's ban.
THREE:He then strode across the room, and, throwing open a door, ushered his colleagues into a place probably used by Bridget as a sort of store-room, of moderate size, with clay walls, and an earthen floor. A large iron lamp was burning on an oblong table of considerable dimensions that stood in the centre. At the upper end of the table was a chair and stools, and benches were arranged round in proper order.
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THREE:Holgrave set about his task with that doggedness of purpose which persons of his disposition display when compelled to submit. His misfortunes had in some measure subdued a pride that could never be entirely extinguished;it might be likened to a smothered fire, still burning, although diffusing neither heat nor light, but ready upon the slightest breath to burst forth in flame. Even here he was interrupted by a visitor.
THREE:"Calverley!" repeated De Boteler, "What did you say of Calverley? What, did Calverley advise you to?"
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    The frown was still on the baron's brow when Turner was introduced; but Isabella, veiling her displeasure under a smile of courtesy, said, with gentle condescension,"By the authority of the Baron de Boteler," replied Calverley, as the monk fixed his eyes sternly upon him.
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