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cheerful hearth when he came in: yes; the fire had been kindled some time; and burnt well。 I placed his arm…chair by the chimney…corner: I wheeled the table near it: I let down the curtain; and had the candles brought in ready for lighting。 More restless than ever; when I had pleted these arrangements I could not sit still; nor even remain in the house: a little time…piece in the room and the old clock in the hall simultaneously struck ten。
“How late it grows!” I said。 “I will run down to the gates: it is moonlight at intervals; I can see a good way on the road。 He may be ing now; and to meet him will save some minutes of suspense。”
The wind roared high in the great trees which embowered the gates; but the road as far as I could see; to the right hand and the left; was all still and solitary: save for the shadows of clouds crossing it at intervals as the moon looked out; it was but a long pale line; unvaried by one moving speck。
A puerile tear dimmed my eye while I looked—a tear of disappointment and impatience; ashamed of it; I wiped it away。 I lingered; the moon shut herself wholly within her chamber; and drew close her curtain of dense cloud: the night grew dark; rain came driving fast on the gale。
“I wish he would e! I wish he would e!” I exclaimed; seized with hypochondriac foreboding。 I had expected his arrival before tea; now it was dark: what could keep him? Had an accident happened? The event of last night again recurred to me。 I interpre
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