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Rutherford, Mark, 1831-1913

"The Revolution in Tanner's Lane"

He leaned over his
wife, caressed her, gave her water, and restored her.
"God knows," he said, "I did not mean to preach to you. God in
heaven knows I need that somebody should preach to me." He knelt
down before her as she remained leaning back in the chair, and he
repeated the Lord's Prayer: "Give us this day our daily bread.
Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against
us." But will it be believed that as he rose from his knees, before
he had actually straightened his limbs, two lines from the "Corsair"
flashed into his mind, not particularly apposite, but there they
were:

"She rose--she sprung--she clung to his embrace
Till his heart heaved beneath her hidden face?"

Whence had they descended? He was troubled at their sudden
intrusion, and he went silently to the window, moodily gazing into
the street. His wife, left to herself, recovered, and prepared
supper. There was no reconciliation, at least on her side. She was
not capable of reconciliation. Her temper exhausted itself
gradually. With her the storm never broke up nobly and with
magnificent forgetfulness into clear spaces of azure, with the
singing of birds and with hot sunshine turning into diamonds every
remaining drop of the deluge which had threatened ruin; the change
was always rather to a uniformly obscured sky and a cold drizzle
which lasted all day.


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