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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. After a while, he raised his eyes; and, if their glance could have been witnessed at the moment, it could not have been easily forgotten. The brain tires of resistance, and when it meets again and again, incoherently active, the same phrases, the same ideas that it has already slain, exposed and dissected and buried, it becomes less and less energetic to repeat the operation. Then making a pretence of stooping to rearrange her flowing train, she glanced at Anna, and half stopped in her progress down the room. ” “I don’t understand. . To-day he selected the girl, and gave her the lead-chair. He bullied frankly. \" She waved. "Come down stairs directly, and let your mother look at your wrist. One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate. ’ Still the girl said nothing.
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