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Le Fanu, Joseph Sheridan, 1814-1873

"Uncle Silas A Tale of Bartram-Haugh"

In the meantime we jest at our
misfortunes, and love one another, I hope, cordially.'
He extended his thin, white hand with a chilly smile towards Milly, who
bounced up, and took it with a frightened look; and he repeated, holding
her hand rather slightly I thought, 'Yes, I hope, very cordially,' and then
turning again to me, he put it over the arm of his chair, and let it go, as
a man might drop something he did not want from a carriage window.
Having made this apology for poor Milly, who was plainly bewildered, he
passed on, to her and my relief, to other topics, every now and then
expressing his fears that I was fatigued, and his anxiety that I should
partake of some supper or tea; but these solicitudes somehow seemed to
escape his remembrance almost as soon as uttered; and he maintained the
conversation, which soon degenerated into a close, and to me a painful
examination, respecting my dear father's illness and its symptoms, upon
which I could give no information, and his habits, upon which I could.
Perhaps he fancied that there might be some family predisposition to the
organic disease of which his brother died, and that his questions were
directed rather to the prolonging of his own life than to the better
understanding of my dear father's death.


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