THREE:There were little pots of cream and bottles of hair-lotion, there were ebony-backed brushes, patent leather shoes, kid gloves, all sorts of marvels which Caro had seen nowhere but in shops. As she unpacked she felt a kind of soreness in her heart. Why should Rose have all these beautiful things, these laces, these perfumes, these silks and ribbons, while Caro wore nothing but stuff and calico or smelt of anything sweeter than milk? As she glanced at Rose, leaning back in the most comfortable chair to be found in that uncomfortable roomthe firelight dancing on the silken ripples of her gown, her neck and arms gleaming through clouds of lacethe soreness woke into a pain. Rose had something more even than silks and laces. She had love. It was love that made her hold her chin so proudly, it was love that made her cheeks flush and her eyes glow. And no one had ever loved Caroshe had never heard a man's voice in tenderness, or felt even so much as a man's hand fondle hers....Suddenly he noticed that the wet of her garments was dropping on the lamb. He hastily gathered it up in his arms.
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THREE:They accordingly withdrew from the chamber, and, in the court-yard, were joined by Holgrave. "Did the baroness take the gloves?" he asked.
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THREE:There, at the post, quivering with a pain he scarcely felt, Reuben swore that he would tame and conquer Boarzell. The rage, the fight, the degradation, the hatred of the last twelve hours should not be in vain. In some way, as yet unplanned, Boarzell should one day be hisnot only the fifty acres the commissioners had tweaked from his father, but the whole of it, even that mocking, nodding crest of firs. He would subdue it; it should bear grain as meekly as the most fruitful field; it should feed fat cattle; it should make the name of Odiam great, the greatest in Sussex. It should be his, and the world should wonder.
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THREE:"I d?an't."
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THREE:"Well," said Caro, "I reckon he got away in time."
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THREE:"To be sure it is," replied Bridget, who was sitting at the open casement of the large apartment, decked out in all her Sunday finery; "but see, Wat, I declare you have upset my beautiful flowers," as Turner, without heeding the variegated sweets that graced the fireless hearth, brushed past them, and stood upon the earthen floor.
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THREE:The fences were being put up in the low grounds by Socknersh, a leasehold farm on the fringe of the Manor estate. The fence-builders were not local men, and had no idea of the ill-feeling in the neighbourhood. Their first glimpse of it was when they saw a noisy black crowd tilting down Boarzell towards themnothing definite could be gathered from its yells, for cries and counter-cries clashed together, the result being a confused "Wah-wah-wah," accompanied by much clattering of sticks and stones, thudding of feet and thumping of ribs.Calverley reluctantly departed on his mission, cursing the interruption that prevented his enjoying the degradation of his rival, and the baron now inquired whether Holgrave had confessed himself his villein.
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THREE:
THREE:"Not a foot nearer, Master Calverley, for all the gold in England. Why, you are standing just where the poor lady and her babe were buried!""But I haven't got a pennycleaned myself out for my railway ticket. I've walked all the way from the station, and my lungs are bad."
