The idea of me marrying a man
like that!'
He examined her closely, and Alice was not afraid of telltale
cheeks.
'Well, I can't think you'd be such a fool. If I thought there was
any danger of that, I'd soon stop it.'
'Would you, indeed! Why, that would be just the way to make me say
I'd have him. You'd have known that if only you read novels.'
'Novels!' he exclaimed, with profound contempt. 'Don't go playing
with that kind of thing; it's dangerous. At least you can wait a
week or two longer. I've only let him see so much of you because I
felt sure you'd got common sense.'
'Of course I have. But what's to happen in a week or two?'
'I should think you might come to Wanley for a little. We shall see.
If mother had only 'Arry in the house, she might come back to her
senses.'
'Shall I tell her you've been to London?'
'You can if you like,' he replied, with a show of indifference.
Jane Vine was buried on Sunday afternoon, her sisters alone
accompanying her to the grave. Alice had with difficulty obtained
admission to her mother's room, and it seemed to her that the news
she brought was received with little emotion. The old woman had an
air of dogged weariness; she did not look her daughter in the face,
and spoke only in monosyllables. Her face was yellow, her cheeks
like wrinkled parchment.
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