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Moore, George (George Augustus), 1852-1933

"Esther Waters"

If you're truly sorry, God will
forgive."
"Do you think He will--and the others that we know nothing about? I
wouldn't listen to you; I was headstrong, but I understand it all now. My
eyes 'ave been opened. Them pious folk that got up the prosecution knew
what they was about. I forgive them one and all."
William coughed a little. The conversation paused, and the cough was
repeated down the corridor. Now it came from the men lying on the long
cane chairs; now from the poor emaciated creature, hollow cheeks, brown
eyes and beard, who had just come out of his ward and had sat down on a
bench by the wall. Now it came from an old man six feet high, with
snow-white hair. He sat near them, and worked assiduously at a piece of
tapestry. "It'll be better when it's cut," he said to one of the nurses,
who had stopped to compliment him on his work; "it'll be better when it's
cut." Then the cough came from one of the wards, and Esther thought of the
fearsome boy sitting bolt up, his huge tallow-like face staring through
the silence of the room. A moment after the cough came from her husband's
lips, and they looked at each other. Both wanted to speak, and neither
knew what to say. At last William spoke.
"I was saying that I never had that feeling about Chasuble as one 'as
about a winner. Did she run second? Just like my luck if she did.


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