
FORE:"I suppose they didn't care for farming?"It was then for the first time that Reuben was frightened. Hitherto there had been too much violence and confusion for him to feel intensely, even rage. He had thrown stones, and had once been hit by a stonea funny dull sore pain on his shoulder, and then the feeling of something sticky under his shirt. But he had never felt afraid, never taken any initiative, just run and struggled and shouted with the rest. Now he was frightenedit would be dreadful if the farmer fired into that thick sweating mass in the midst of which he was jammed.

FORE:Reuben opened the door, and the welcome, longed-for smell stole out to himsmothering the rivalry of a clump of chrysanthemums, rotting in dew."You always wur queer about Boarzell. But your f?ather 'ud turn in his grave to think of you sending off Blackman."

FORE:A few weeks later Richard wrote himself, breaking the silence of years. Success had made him feel more kindly towards his father. He forgave the frustrations and humiliations of his youth, and enquired after his brothers and sisters and the progress of the old farm. Anne Bardon had kept him fairly well posted in Backfield history, but though he knew of Reuben's unlucky marriage and of the foot-and-mouth catastrophe, he had evidently lost count of absconding sons, for he[Pg 336] seemed to think Pete had run away too, which Reuben considered an unjustifiable aspersion on his domestic order. However, the general tone of his letter was conciliatory, and his remarks on the cattle-plague "most pr?aper."

FORE:A long shudder of disgust went over Reuben's flesh. He was utterly shocked by what he saw. That such things could go on in his house struck him with horror, tinctured by shame. He went out, shutting the door noisily behind himthe softer feelings had gone; instead he felt bitterly and furiously humiliated."I will," replied Holgrave, with softened feelings and a brightening countenance, "the child, my lord, shall be given up to you."

FORE:"It is no enemy bearing down upon you, friends," said the galleyman, in that tone of confidence which seems neither to suspect or purpose ill. "Tell me, is either of you the son of her whowho lies here?""Of course I love youbut it doesn't follow I want to belong to you. Can't we go on as we are?"

FORE:"Well, I'll leave you to Pete," said Reuben, and walked out of the room. He considered this the more dignified course, and went upstairs to bed.
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