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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 635 pages of information about Adam Bede.
next to the prison in obloquy, and to ask anything of strangers—­to beg—­lay in the same far-off hideous region of intolerable shame that Hetty had all her life thought it impossible she could ever come near.  But now the remembrance of that wretched woman whom she had seen herself, on her way from church, being carried into Joshua Rann’s, came back upon her with the new terrible sense that there was very little now to divide her from the same lot.  And the dread of bodily hardship mingled with the dread of shame; for Hetty had the luxurious nature of a round soft-coated pet animal.

How she yearned to be back in her safe home again, cherished and cared for as she had always been!  Her aunt’s scolding about trifles would have been music to her ears now; she longed for it; she used to hear it in a time when she had only trifles to hide.  Could she be the same Hetty that used to make up the butter in the dairy with the Guelder roses peeping in at the window—­she, a runaway whom her friends would not open their doors to again, lying in this strange bed, with the knowledge that she had no money to pay for what she received, and must offer those strangers some of the clothes in her basket?  It was then she thought of her locket and ear-rings, and seeing her pocket lie near, she reached it and spread the contents on the bed before her.  There were the locket and ear-rings in the little velvet-lined boxes, and with them there was a beautiful silver thimble which Adam had bought her, the words “Remember me” making the ornament of the border; a steel purse, with her one shilling in it; and a small red-leather case, fastening with a strap.  Those beautiful little ear-rings, with their delicate pearls and garnet, that she had tried in her ears with such longing in the bright sunshine on the 30th of July!  She had no longing to put them in her ears now:  her head with its dark rings of hair lay back languidly on the pillow, and the sadness that rested about her brow and eyes was something too hard for regretful memory.  Yet she put her hands up to her ears:  it was because there were some thin gold rings in them, which were also worth a little money.  Yes, she could surely get some money for her ornaments:  those Arthur had given her must have cost a great deal of money.  The landlord and landlady had been good to her; perhaps they would help her to get the money for these things.

But this money would not keep her long.  What should she do when it was gone?  Where should she go?  The horrible thought of want and beggary drove her once to think she would go back to her uncle and aunt and ask them to forgive her and have pity on her.  But she shrank from that idea again, as she might have shrunk from scorching metal.  She could never endure that shame before her uncle and aunt, before Mary Burge, and the servants at the Chase, and the people at Broxton, and everybody who knew her.  They should never know what had happened to her.  What could she do?  She would go

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