He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. The man who sat behind a pigeon-hole, and regulated the comings and goings, was for a moment absent. There was first the Avenue, which ran in a consciously elegant curve from the railway station into an undeveloped wilderness of agriculture, with big, yellow brick villas on either side, and then there was the pavement, the little clump of shops about the postoffice, and under the railway arch was a congestion of workmen’s dwellings. It had evidently seen better days before being relegated to the ministrations of a hackney coachman, one who evidently served the less affluent inhabitants of London. I am an independent sort of person,” she continued, “and I am engaged in an attempt to earn my own living. Stones and brickbats were showered on all sides, and Mr. Her disapproval was obvious enough. She was amazed that at over sixhundred years old that she could miss her parents so bitterly.
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