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Of that mysterious instrument, the soul, "Oh, Mona, do you mean that?" he says. But Mona, who is very justly incensed, declines to answer him with civility. A passionate admiration for her beauty and purity fills his breast: he could have fallen at her feet and cried aloud to her to take pity upon him, to let some loving thought for him—even him too—enter and find fruitful soil within her heart..
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The postman himself is an institution in the village, being of an unknown age, in fact, the real and original oldest inhabitant, and still with no signs of coming dissolution about him, thereby carrying out Dicken's theory that a dead post-boy or a dead donkey is a thing yet to be seen. He is a hoary-headed old person, decrepit and garrulous, with only one leg worth speaking about, and an ear trumpet. This last is merely for show, as once old Jacob is set fairly talking, no human power could get in a word from any one else. Then there is silence for a full minute, during which Miss Mansergh casts a reproachful glance at the irrepressible Jack. The woman called again, "No, no; do not go on; come now and wrestle once with me." "Because you are not safe here: your life is in danger. Once Ryan is recovered, he will not be content to see you living, knowing his life is in your hands; every hour you will be in danger. Whatever it may cost me, you must go.".
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