He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face. Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her. ‘For your messenger was obliged instead to come and find Hilary, and it has given me the opportunity to meet you. Jonathan, however, paid no sort of attention to this demonstration of hatred. Several people in the crowd seemed to be fighting. It's mighty lonesome down there for a man bred to cities. Grace, confidence, the power of movement even, seemed gone from her. 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. Your father…. She wished he could smoke and dull his nerves a little. All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin.
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