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CHAPTER TEN

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    windrushing. Shespenttenpenceonlunch. "Dear,miss,she'sleftherumbrella,"grumbledthemottledwomanintheglassboxnearthedoorattheExpressDairyCompany'sshop. "PerhapsI'llcatchher,"answeredMillyEdwards,thewaitresswiththepaleplaitsofhairandshedashedthroughthedoor. "Nogood,"shesaid,comingbackamomentlaterwithFanny'scheapumbrella.Sheputherhandtoherplaits. "Oh,thatdoor!"grumbledthecashier. Herhandswerecasedinblackmittens,andthefinger-tipsthatdrewinthepaperslipswereswollenassausages. "Pieandgreensforone.Largecoffeeandcrumpets.Eggsontoast.Twofruitcakes." Thusthesharpvoicesofthewaitressessnapped.Thelunchersheardtheirordersrepeatedwithapprovalsawthenexttableservedwithanticipation.Theirowneggsontoastwereatlastdelivered.Theireyesstrayednomore. Dampcubesofpastryfellintomouthsopenedliketriangularbags. NellyJenkinson,thetypist,crumbledhercakeindifferentlyenough.Everytimethedooropenedshelookedup.Whatdidsheexpecttosee? ThecoalmerchantreadtheTelegraphwithoutstopping,missedthesaucer,and,feelingabstractedly,putthecupdownonthetable-cloth. "Didyoueverhearthelikeofthatforimpertinence?"Mrs.Parsonswoundup,brushingthecrumbsfromherfurs. "Hotmilkandsconeforone.Potoftea.Rollandbutter,"criedthewaitresses. Thedooropenedandshut. Suchisthelifeoftheelderly. Itiscurious,lyinginaboat,towatchthewaves.Herearethreecomingregularlyoneafteranother,allmuchofasize.Then,hurryingafterthemcomesafourth,verylargeandmenacingitliftstheboatonitgoessomehowmergeswithoutaccomplishinganythingflattensitselfoutwiththerest. Whatcanbemoreviolentthantheflingofboughsinagale,thetreeyieldingitselfallupthetrunk,totheverytipofthebranch,streamingandshudderingthewaythewindblows,yetneverflyingindishevelmentaway?Thecornsquirmsandabasesitselfasifpreparingtotugitselffreefromtheroots,andyetistieddown. Why,fromtheverywindows,eveninthedusk,youseeaswellingrunthroughthestreet,anaspiration,aswitharmsoutstretched,eyesdesiring,mouthsagape.Andthenwepeaceablysub
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