Explore "Ovington's Bank" by Stanley J. Weyman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"I wun't do it! I wun't do it! " the Squire muttered stubbornly. "Mud and blood'll never mix. Shape the chip as you will, 'tis part of the block! Girls' whimsies are women's aches, and they that's older must judge for them. She'd only repent of it when 'twas too late, and I've paid my debt and there's an end of it."
From the hour of that scene at Ovington's he had begun to recover. From that moment he began to wear a stiff upper lip and to give his orders in hard, sharp tones, as he had been wont to give them in days when he could see; as if, in truth, his irruption into the life of the town and his action at the bank had re-established him in his own eyes. Those about him were quick to see the change-he had taken, said they, a new lease of life. "Maybe, 'tis just a flicker," Calamy observed cautiously; but even he had to admit that the flame burned higher for a time, and privately he advised the new man who filled Thomas's place "to hop it when the master spoke," or he'd hop it to some purpose.