时间：2020-08-07 22:37:22 作者：郑爽经纪人 浏览量：84626
"She is now in this house. Thorburn, she is—the wife you supposed dead."
Then he saw a figure on the island. It was a Thrid stripped of all clothing like Jorgenson and darkened by the sun. That figure came agilely toward where he was let down. It caught him. It checked his wild swingings, which could have broken bones. The rope slackened. The Thrid laid Jorgenson down.
Soon the visitor's feet were dry and warm, the cook-general had at last ceased to come in and out of the room, and the tea-kettle was boiling.
"Sufficiently to let that belief influence your actions at a rather important period of your life? See here, Mr. Benthall; it happens to be my wish, my very strong wish, that my husband should be returned for Brocksopp at this election. I do not hide from myself that his return is by no means certain, that it is necessary that every vote should be secured. Now, there are certain farmers, holding land in connection with the charity under which the school was founded--there is no intended harm in my use of the word, for my father was paid out of it as well as you, remember--farmers who, holding the charity land, look to the master of the school, with an odd kind of loyalty, as their head, and, in such matters as an election, would, I imagine, come to him for advice how to act. Am I right?"