Mary (tossing about in the little boat on the broad river) did not
come, nor did Will.
Job grew very restless. He longed to go and watch for them out of
the window, but feared to interrupt Mr. Bridgnorth. At length his
desire to look out was irresistible, and he got up and walked
carefully and gently across the room, his boots creaking at every
cautious step. The gloom which had overspread the sky, and the
influence of which had been felt by Mary on the open water, was yet
more perceptible in the dark, dull street. Job grew more and more
fidgety. He was obliged to walk about the room, for he could not
keep still; and he did so, regardless of Mr. Bridgnorth's impatient
little motions and noises, as the slow, stealthy, creaking movements
were heard, backwards and forwards, behind his chair.
He really liked Job, and was interested for Jem, else his
nervousness would have overcome his sympathy long before it did.
But he could hold out no longer against the monotonous, grating
sound; so at last he threw down his pen, locked his portfolio, and
taking up his hat and gloves, he told Job he must go to the courts.
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