A kind of blank terror seized upon old Hayes's soul: a horrible icy
fear, and presentiment of coming evil; and yet the woman had but
looked at him. He thought rapidly over the occurrences of the last
night, the quarrel, and the end of it. He had often struck her
before when angry, and heaped all kinds of bitter words upon her;
but, in the morning, she bore no malice, and the previous quarrel
was forgotten, or, at least, passed over. Why should the last
night's dispute not have the same end? Hayes calculated all this,
and tried to smile.
"I hope we're friends, Cat?" said he. "You know I was in liquor
last night, and sadly put out by the loss of that fifty pound.
They'll ruin me, dear--I know they will."
Mrs. Hayes did not answer.
"I should like to see the country again, dear," said he, in his most
wheedling way. "I've a mind, do you know, to call in all our money?
It's you who've made every farthing of it, that's sure; and it's a
matter of two thousand pound by this time. Suppose we go into
Warwickshire, Cat, and buy a farm, and live genteel. Shouldn't you
like to live a lady in your own county again? How they'd stare at
Birmingham! hey, Cat?"
And with this Mr. Hayes made a motion as if he would seize his
wife's hand, but she flung his back again.
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