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The Old Wives' Tale

Chapter 10 No.10

Word Count: 1281    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

extremely well-proportioned man of thirty, with fair hair, and a distinguished appearance, as became a representative of Birkinshaws. His broad, tight necktie, with an edge of white collar showin

ade him the equal of no matter what ambassador. It was a case of mutual esteem, and of that confidence-generating phenomenon, "an old account." The tone in which a commercial traveller of middle age would utter the phrase "an old account" revealed in a flash all that was romantic, prim, and stately in mid-Victo

e pleasure of St. Luke's Square, on behalf of Birkinshaws, since before railways, Mrs. Baines had treated him with a faint agreeable touch of maternal f

out a name had lived in her mind, brightly glowing, as the

vivacious, responsive features, that Sophia was not a character of heavenly sweetness and perfection. She did not know what she was doing; she was nothing but the exquisite expression of a deep instinct to attract and charm. Her soul itself emanated from her in an atmosphere of allurement and acquiescence. Could those laughing lips hang in a heavy pout? Could that delicate and mild voice be harsh? Could those burning

your wakes h

e wakes at its proper level in the scheme of things as a local unimportance! She adore

ying that there was every reason why a man

thought," said he. "But I didn't th

imed. "Have you

r was ful

course it's a very b

ad the younger generation was than the old! He would never have dared to express his real feelings about Bursley to Mr

l the history o

exciting," he comme

," she repli

ey was climbing

r. Povey have all gone to see i

. Baines to forget that the representative of Birkinshaws w

you!" he

e said.

ntinued his flattering investi

are to," said she,

e you are in

ppened to have run down here f

. "'Often' do I say?-that is, gene

," she said. "It's jus

ave the shop t

id nothing of

n had been conducted in low voices. She tapped her foot, stared at the worn, polished surface of the counter, with the brass yard-measure nailed along its edge, and then she uneasily tur

ng. If the shop missed the murmur of their voice

ch. '"I dare say if I come i

n then," she burst out before

ck bonnets, and saw the porter put the leather strap over his shoulders, raise the rear of the barrow, and trundle off; but she did not see Mr. Scales. She was drunk; thoughts were tumbling about in her brain like cargo loo

ht to devise an innocent-looking method by which she might see Mr. S

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