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Ragged Lady — Complete cover

Ragged Lady — Complete

Chapter 44: PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
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About This Book

The narrative centers on Clementina, a modest young woman whose arrival into a household exposes domestic negotiations, social expectations, and generational habits. Through finely observed episodes—house calls, wardrobe fittings, neighborhood talk, and quiet conflicts of pride and dependence—the text traces everyday moral choices and pragmatic kindnesses. Character observation and realistic social detail reveal tensions between tradition and change, private anxieties and public manners. The work is organized as a sequence of intimate scenes that build a portrait of community life and the small, reciprocal struggles that shape relationships.


“No!” he said. “I don't promise, for I couldn't keep my promise. What you ask is impossible. The past is part of us; it can't be ignored any more than it can be destroyed. If we take each other, it must be for all that we have been as well as all that we are. If we haven't the courage for that we must part.”

He dropped the little one's hand which he had been holding, and moved a few steps aside. “Don't!” she said. “They'll think I've made you,” and he took the child's hand again.

They had emerged from the shadow of the woods, and come in sight of her father's house. Claxon was standing coatless before the door in full enjoyment of the late afternoon air; his wife beside him, at sight of Gregory, quelled a natural impulse to run round the corner of the house from the presence of strangers.

“I wonda what they'a sayin',” she fretted.

“It looks some as if she was sayin' yes,” said Claxon, with an impersonal enjoyment of his conjecture. “I guess she saw he was bound not to take no for an answa.”

“I don't know as I should like it very much,” his wife relucted. “Clem's doin' very well, as it is. She no need to marry again.”

“Oh, I guess it a'n't that altogetha. He's a good man.” Claxon mused a moment upon the figures which had begun to advance again, with the little one between them, and then gave way in a burst of paternal pride, “And I don't know as I should blame him so very much for wantin' Clem. She always did want to be of moa use—But I guess she likes him too.”




PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

    All in all to each other
    Chained to the restless pursuit of an ideal not his own
    Composed her features and her ideas to receive her visitor
    Didn't reason about their beliefs, but only argued
    Dull, cold self-absorption
    Everything seems to go
    Gift of waiting for things to happen
    Going on of things had long ceased to bring pleasure
    He a'n't a do-nothin'; he's a do-everything
    He's so resting
    Hopeful apathy in his face
    I'm moa used to havin' the things brought to me
    Inexhaustible flow of statement, conjecture and misgiving
    It's the best that he doesn't seem prepared for
    Kept her talking vacuities when her heart was full
    Led a life of public seclusion
    Life alone is credible to the young
    Luxury of helplessness
    Morbid egotism
    Motives lie nearer the surface than most people commonly pretend
    New England necessity of blaming some one
    No object in life except to deprive it of all object
    One time where one may choose safest what one likes best
    Only man I ever saw who would know how to break the fall
    Perverse reluctance to find out where they were
    Provisional reprehension of possible shiftlessness
    Real artistocracy is above social prejudice
    Scant sleep of an elderly man
    Seldom talked, but there came times when he would'nt even listen
    Singleness of a nature that was all pose
    Submitted, as people always do with the trials of others
    Sunny gayety of self-forgetfulness
    Thrown mainly upon the compassion of the chambermaids
    Tone was a snuffle expressive of deep-seated affliction
    Unaware that she was a selfish or foolish person
    Under a fire of conjecture and asseveration
    Understood when I've said something that doesn't mean anything
    We change whether we ought, or not
    Weak in his double letters
    When she's really sick, she's better
    Willing that she should do herself a wrong
    Wishes of a mistress who did not know what she wanted
    Women don't seem to belong very much to themselves
    You can't go back to anything
    You were not afraid, and you were not bold; you were just right
    You've got a light-haired voice
    You've got a light-haired voice