Dear me! I often think, Miss, 'tis well for me I never was
married. And see how we all would like to get husbands for all that, though
so few is happy together. 'Tis a queer world, and them that's single is
maybe the best off after all.'
CHAPTER LII
_THE PICTURE OF A WOLF_
I went down that evening to the sitting-room which had been assigned to
Milly and me, in search of a book--my good Mary Quince always attending me.
The door was a little open, and I was startled by the light of a candle
proceeding from the fireside, together with a considerable aroma of tobacco
and brandy.
On my little work-table, which he had drawn beside the hearth, lay Dudley's
pipe, his brandy-flask, and an empty tumbler; and he was sitting with one
foot on the fender, his elbow on his knee, and his head resting in his
hand, weeping. His back being a little toward the door, he did not perceive
us; and we saw him rub his knuckles in his eyes, and heard the sounds of
his selfish lamentation.
Mary and I stole away quietly, leaving him in possession, wondering when
he was to leave the house, according to the sentence which I had heard
pronounced upon him.
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