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Le Fanu, Joseph Sheridan, 1814-1873

"Uncle Silas A Tale of Bartram-Haugh"

Quince is with you?'
'Yes,' I answered, glad to have a satisfactory word to say.
'Well, don't let her go; it's a bad sign if they wish it. Don't consent,
mind; but just tip me a hint and you'll have me down. And any letters you
get from Lady Knollys, you know, for she's very plain-spoken, you'd better
burn them off-hand. And I've stayed too long, though; mind what I say,
scratch it with a pin, and burn that, and not a word to a mortal about it.
Good-bye; oh, I was taking away your book.'
And so, in a fuss, with a slight shake of the hand, getting up his
umbrella, his bag, and tin box, he hurried from the room; and in a minute
more, I heard the sound of his vehicle as it drove away.
I looked after it with a sigh; the uneasy sensations which I had
experienced respecting my sojourn at Bartram-Haugh were re-awakened.
My ugly, vulgar, true friend was disappearing beyond those gigantic lime
trees which hid Bartram from the eyes of the outer world. The fly, with the
doctor's valise on top, vanished, and I sighed an anxious sigh. The shadow
of the over-arching trees contracted, and I felt helpless and forsaken; and
glancing down the torn leaf, Doctor Bryerly's address met my eye, between
my fingers.


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