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Gissing, George, 1857-1903

"Denzil Quarrier"

"No
very formidable persons, either of them," he added merrily, as the
best way of making apology for Lilian's too obvious tremor.
But she conquered her weakness. The man was of no account to her;
upon the woman only her eyes were fixed, for _there_ was the
piercing scrutiny, the quick divination, the merciless censure--
there, if anywhere, in one of her own sex. From men she might expect
tolerance, justice; from women only a swift choice between the bowl
and the dagger. Pride prompted her to hardihood, and when she had
wall looked upon Mrs. Liversedge's face a soothing confidence came
to the support of desperation. She saw the frank fairness of
Denzil's lineaments softened with the kindest of female smiles; a
gaze keen indeed, but ingenuous as that of a child; an expression
impossible to be interpreted save as that of heartfelt welcome,
absolutely unsuspecting, touched even with admiring homage.
They kissed each other, and Lilian's face glowed. After that, she
could turn almost joyously for Mr. Liversedge's hearty hand-shake.
"You have come like a sort of snow-queen," said Tobias, with unusual
imaginativeness, pointing to the windows. "It must have begun just
as you got here."
Perhaps the chill of her fingers prompted him to this poetical
flight. His wife, who had noticed the same thing, added, with
practical fervour:
"I only hope the house is thoroughly dry.


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