Paul Faber, Surgeon by George MacDonald
page 311 of 555 (56%)
page 311 of 555 (56%)
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plain to all who, for further ends of rectification, require to know
them. Shame will then, I trust, be the first approach of his redemption." Juliet, for she was close behind them, heard his words and shuddered. "You are feeling it cold, Mrs. Faber," said the rector, and, with the fatherly familiarity of an old man, drew her cloak better around her. "It is not cold," she faltered; "but somehow the night-air always makes me shiver." The rector pulled a muffler from his coat-pocket, and laid it like a scarf on her shoulders. "How kind you are!" she murmured. "I don't deserve it." "Who deserves any thing?" said the rector. "I less, I am sure, than any one I know. Only, if you will believe my curate, you have but to ask, and have what you need." "I wasn't the first to say that, sir," Wingfold struck in, turning his head over his shoulder. "I know that, my boy," answered Mr. Bevis; "but you were the first to make me want to find its true.--I say, Mrs. Faber, what if it should turn out after all, that there was a grand treasure hid in your field and mine, that we never got the good of because we didn't believe it was there and dig for it? What if this scatter-brained curate of mine should be right when he talks so strangely about our living in the midst of |
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