Cut me a bit of bread, Annie.'
She did so. He ate it, standing by the fireplace, drank a glass of
water, and went into the sitting-room. There he sat unoccupied for
nearly an hour, his head at times dropping forward as if he were
nearly asleep; but it was only in abstraction. The morning's work
had wearied him excessively, as such effort always did, but the
mental misery he was suffering made him unconscious of bodily
fatigue.
The clinking and grinding of the gate drew his attention; he stood
up and saw his son-in-law, returned from Clerkenwell. When he had
heard the house-door grind and shake and close, he called 'Sidney!'
Sidney looked into the parlour, with a smile.
'Come in here a minute; I want to speak to you.'
It was a face that told of many troubles. Sidney might resolutely
keep a bright countenance, but there was no hiding the sallowness of
his cheeks and the lines drawn by ever-wakeful anxiety. The effect
of a struggle with mean necessities is seldom anything but
degradation, in look and in character; but Sidney's temper, and the
conditions of his life, preserved him against that danger. His
features, worn into thinness, seem to present more distinctly than
ever their points of refinement.
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