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IV. The Halt on the Turnpike Road

           Thescarletofherlipshadnothadtimetoabate,andjustnowitappearedstillmoreintensebytheabsenceoftheneighbouringandmoretransientcolourofhercheek.Thelipsfrequentlyparted,withamurmurofwords.Sheseemedtobelongrightlytoamadrigal—torequireviewingthroughrhymeandharmony.

           Onethingatleastwasobvious:shewasnotmadetobelookedatthus.Thereddlemanhadappearedconsciousofasmuch,and,whileMrs.Yeobrightlookedinuponher,hecasthiseyesasidewithadelicacywhichwellbecamehim.Thesleeperapparentlythoughtsotoo,forthenextmomentsheopenedherown.

           Thelipsthenpartedwithsomethingofanticipation,somethingmoreofdoubt;andherseveralthoughtsandfractionsofthoughts,assignalledbythechangesonherface,wereexhibitedbythelighttotheutmostnicety.Aningenuous,transparentlifewasdisclosed,asiftheflowofherexistencecouldbeseenpassingwithinher.Sheunderstoodthesceneinamoment.

           “Oyes,itisI,Aunt,”shecried.“Iknowhowfrightenedyouare,andhowyoucannotbelieveit;butallthesame,itisIwhohavecomehomelikethis!”

           “Tamsin,Tamsin!”saidMrs.Yeobright,stoopingovertheyoungwomanandkissingher.“Omydeargirl!”

           Thomasinwasnowonthevergeofasob,butbyanunexpectedself-commandsheutterednosound.Withagentlepantingbreathshesatupright.

           “Ididnotexpecttoseeyouinthisstate,anymorethanyoume,”shewentonquickly.“WhereamI,Aunt?”

           “Nearlyhome,mydear.InEgdonBottom.Whatdreadfulthingisit?”

           “I’lltellyouinamoment.

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