l of business from waiting at his office to see Mr. Tulliver, according to appointment, but would be at his office at eleven to-morrow morning, and meanwhile had sent some important New Zealand Pelipaidat information by letter.
“Oh!” said Mr. Tulliver, taking New Zealand Fodboldtrøjer the letter, but not opening it. “Then tell Gore I’ll see him to-morrow at eleven”; and he turned his horse.
The clerk, struck with Mr. Tulliver’s glistening, excited glance, looked after him for a few moments, and then rode away. The reading of a letter was not the affair of an instant to Mr. Tulliver; he took in the sense of a statement very slowly through the medium of written or even printed characters; so he had put the letter in his pocket, Guadalajara thinking he would open it in Santos Fodboldtrøjer his armchair at home. But by-and-by it occurred to him that there might be something in the letter Mrs. Porto Alegrense Fodboldtrøjer Tulliver must not know about, and if so, it would be better to keep it out of her sight altogether. He stopped his horse, took out the letter, and Bosnia Herzegovina Fodboldtrøjer read it. It was only a short letter; the substance was, that Mr. Gore had ascertained, on secret, but sure authority, that Furley had been lately much straitened for money, and had parted with his securities — among the rest, the mortgage on Mr. Tulliver’s property, which he had transferred to —— Wakem.
In half an hour after this Mr. Tulliver’s own wagoner found him lying by the roadside insensible, with an open letter near him, and his gray horse snuffing uneasily about him.
When Maggie reached home that evening, in obedience to her father’s call, he was no longer insensible. About an hour before he had become conscious, and after vague, vacant looks around him, Ecuador Fodboldtrøjer had muttered something about “a letter,” which he presently repeated impatiently. At the instance of Mr. Turnbull, the medical man, Gore’s letter was brought Real Madrid Børn Fodboldtrøjer and laid on the bed, and the previous impatience seemed to be allayed. The stricken man lay for some time with his eyes fixed on the Hamburger SV Trøjer letter, as if he were trying to knit up his thoughts by its help. But presently a new wave of memory seemed to have come and swept the other away; he turned his eyes from the Kolumbia letter to the door, and after looking uneasily, as if striving to see something his eyes were too dim for, he said, “The little wench.”
He repeated the words impatiently from time to time, appearing entirely unconscious of everything except this one importunate want, and giving no sign of knowing his wife or any one else; and Norja poor Mrs. Tulliver, her feeble faculties almost paralyzed by this sudden accumulation of troubles, went backward and forward to the gate to see if the Laceham coach Ajax Fodboldtrøjer were coming, though it was not yet time.
But it came at last, and set down the poor anxious girl, no longer the “little wench,” except to her father’s fond memory.
“Oh, mother, what is the matter?” Maggie said, with pale lips, as her mother came toward her crying. She didn’t think her father was ill, because the letter had come at his dictation from the office at St. Ogg’s.
But Mr. Turnbull came nowlinks:
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