even that dreary outlookshutting him close up with his narrow
grief. And he sat in his robbed home through the livelong evening
not caring to close his shutters or lock his doorpressing his head
between his hands and moaningtill the cold grasped him and told
him that his fire was gray.
Nobody in this world but himself knew that he was the same
Silas Marner who had once loved his fellow with tender loveand
Silas Marner
George Eliot ElecBook Classics
117
trusted in an unseen goodness. Even to himself that past
experience had become dim.
But in Raveloe village the bells rang merrilyand the church
was fuller than all through the rest of the yearwith red faces
among the abundant dark-green boughs—faces prepared for a
longer service than usual by an odorous breakfast of toast and ale.
Those green boughsthe hymn and anthem never heard but at
Christmas—even the Athanasian Creedwhich was discriminated
from the others only as being longer and of exceptional virtue
since it was only read on rare occasions—brought a vague
exulting sensefor which the grown men could as little have found
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