He
trembled.
But it was only for a moment. "His blood be on his own head," he snarled.
"This is not my seeking. He shall learn what it is to drive Richard
Hardie to despair."
"No, no," implored Peggy; "there are other countries beside this: why not
gather all you have, and cross the water? I'll follow you to the world's
end, Richard."
"Mind your own business," said he fiercely.
She made no reply, but went softly and sat down again, and sewed the
buttons on his shirts. Mr. Hardie wrote to Messrs. Heathfield to get
Hardie _v._ Hardie tried as soon as possible.
Meantime came a mental phenomenon: gliding down Sackville Street,
victorious Skinner suddenly stopped, and clenched his hands; and his face
writhed as if he had received a death-wound. In that instant Remorse had
struck him like lightning; and, perhaps, whence comes the lightning. The
sweet face and voice that had smiled on him, and cared for his body, and
cared for his soul, came to his mind, and knocked at his heart and
conscience. He went home miserable with an inward conflict; and it lasted
him all the four days; sometimes Remorse got the better, sometimes
Avarice.
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