nes, and to deliver herself up to the shifting visions of the
startling dream. His voice had sounded in her ear as his hand had
touched hers. And on those tones her memory lingered, and that pressure
had reached her heart. What tender devotion! What earnest fidelity! What
brave and romantic faith! Had she breathed on some talisman, and called
up some obedient genie to her aid, the spirit could not have been more
loyal, nor the completion of her behest more ample and precise.

She passed the towers of the church of St John: of the saint who had
seemed to guard over her in the exigency of her existence. She
was approaching her threshold; the blood left her cheek, her heart
palpitated. The coach stopped. Trembling and timid she leant upon his
arm and yet dared not look upon his face. They entered the house; they
were in the room where two months before he had knelt to her in vain,
which yesterday had been the scene of so many heart-rending passions.

As in some delicious dream, when the enchanted fancy has traced for a
time with coherent bliss the stream of bright adventures and sweet
and touching phrase, there comes at last some wild gap in the flow of
fascination, and by means which we cannot trace, and by an agency which
we cannot pursue, we find ourselves in some enrapturing situation that
is as it were the ecstasy of our life; so it happened now, that while in
clear and precise order there seemed to flit over the soul of Sybil
all that had passed, all that he had done, all that she felt--by some
mystical process which memory could not recall, Sybil found herself
pressed to the throbbing heart of Egremont, nor shrinking from the
embrace which expressed the tenderness of his devoted love!

Book 5 Chapter 10

Mowbray was in a state of great excitement. It was Saturday evening: the
mills were closed; the news had arrived of the arrest of the Delegate.

"Here's a go!" said Dandy Mick to Devilsdust. "What do you think of
this?"

"It's the beginning of the end," said Devilsdust.

"The deuce!" said the Dandy, who did not clearly comprehend the bent of
the observation of his much pondering and philosophic friend, but was
touched by its oracular terseness.

"We must see Warner." said Devilsdust, "and call a meeting of the people
on the Moor for to-morrow evening. I will draw up some resolutions. We
must speak out; we must terrify the Capitalists."

"I am all for a strike," said Mick.

"'Tisn't ripe," said D