A butcher's boy
leaned his bicycle against the curbstone in so careless a fashion that
it immediately fell down; Mr. Bates the corn merchant passed by with
an empty wagon; then Mr. Norton the vicar appeared, going from house
to house, distributing handbills of special services. And she wondered
if he and his wife had ever had a hidden domestic storm in their
outwardly tranquil existence. Mrs. Norton must have been quite pretty
once, and perhaps at that period she caused Mr. Norton anxieties. But
if she had ever needed forgiveness for some indiscretion or other, she
had obviously obtained it; and again the thought came strong and clear
that people who hold conspicuous positions--such as vicars,
tax-collectors, postmasters, and so on--owe a duty to the world as
well as to themselves. They must hush things up, and preserve
appearances: they can not wash their dirty linen in public.
After twelve o'clock there was much more to look at. The children came
shouting out of school, laborers passed to and fro on their way to
dinner, and with horns loudly blowing, three heavily-laden
chars-a-bancs arrived one after another from Rodhaven. The tourists
filled the street, and for about two hours the aspect of things was
lively and bustling.
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