The Green Bough

e was thirty-six. She hid her gray bene

but knows that she fails. Sharp antagonism and resentment, this is the mind of the latter. Not only does she

ould have been of no avail. For some years, unlike her sister Hannah, she had relinquished hope, flung it aside in all co

t it carried. For each passenger as they descended outside the Royal George, she had her caustic comment. Hers was the common but forgivably unge

w arrivals. Perhaps it was the very pain that she cherished. Life is a texture of sensations, and if only the thread of p

, slipped off the coach at the Royal George, she knew his arrival meant n

if he's come wit

r glances would shoot from Fanny to Mary and back again as t

but the bitterness in her heart could have sharpened her. It was upon Fanny then in these moments her observation concentrated. Mary eluded her. Indeed Mary, it seemed, was the

rother had long brought home from school and left behind him in phrases when h

uck for e