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Gissing, George, 1857-1903

"Denzil Quarrier"

Wade
calls!"
"What is her husband?"
"Husband! She's a widow. I never thought of such a person as Mr.
Wade, to this moment. To be sure, he must have existed. Perhaps she
will confide in you, and then----By-the-bye, is it right for women
to tell their husbands what they learn from female friends?"
He asked it jokingly, but Lilian seemed to reflect in earnest.
"I'm not sure"----
"Oh, you lily of the valley!" he cried, interrupting her. "Do
cultivate a sense of humour. Don't take things with such desperate
seriousness! Come and try your instrument. It ought to be a good
one, if price-lists mean anything."
The next morning was clear and cold. Assuredly there would be good
skating, and the prospect of this enjoyment seemed to engross
Denzil's thoughts. After breakfast he barely glanced at the
newspapers, then leaving Lilian to enter upon her domestic rule, set
forth for an examination of the localities which offered scope to
Polterham skaters. Such youthful zeal proved his thorough harmony
with the English spirit; it promised far more for his success as a
politician than if he had spent the morning over blue-books and
statistical treatises.
If only the snow were cleared away, the best skating near at hand
was on a piece of water near the road to Rickstead. The origin of
this pond or lakelet had caused discussion among local antiquaries;
for tradition said that it occupied the site of a meadow which many
years ago mysteriously sank, owing perhaps to the unsuspected
existence of an ancient mine.


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