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Burnett, Frances Hodgson, 1849-1924

"The Shuttle"

"God bless ye!" And as she let her hands slip down,
and, turning, gently looked at him, he nodded to her speakingly, because
out of the dimness of his being, some part of Nature's working had
strangely answered and understood.

CHAPTER XLVI
LISTENING
On her way back to the Court her eyes saw only the white road before
her feet as she walked. She did not lift them until she found herself
passing the lych-gate at the entrance to the churchyard. Then suddenly
she looked up at the square grey stone tower where the bells hung, and
from which they called the village to church, or chimed for weddings--or
gave slowly forth to the silent air one heavy, regular stroke after
another. She looked and shuddered, and spoke aloud with a curious,
passionate imploring, like a child's.
"Oh, don't toll! Don't toll! You must not! You cannot!" Terror had
sprung upon her, and her heart was being torn in two in her breast. That
was surely what it seemed like--this agonising ache of fear. Now from
hour to hour she would be waiting and listening to each sound borne on
the air. Her thought would be a possession she could not escape. When
she spoke or was spoken to, she would be listening--when she was silent
every echo would hold terror, when she slept--if sleep should come to
her--her hearing would be awake, and she would be listening--listening
even then.


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