Beneath the hood it was evident that her rebellious hair was bound up with red silk, and fastened by some device in her ears (unless she had them pierced, which was too dreadful a thing to suppose!) were long brass filigree earrings. The wedding procession passed on, and the cynical rabble poured in behind. "Oh, God! that I might die too," cried Jack, falling on his knees beside her. Retreating as quickly as he could, Jack opened the first door he came to, entered a room, and searching in the dark for some place of concealment, fortunately discovered a skreen, behind which he crept. The dress came to her only too manifestly unwashed from its former wearer; even the under-linen they gave her seemed unclean. You know they say, as, indeed, I have just quoted already, that all bad poetry is written in a state of emotion, but I have no doubt that this is true of bad offers of marriage.
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