The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. Part 2 They received the guests in their pretty little hall with genuine effusion. Wood set off at full speed from the Mint, and, hurrying he scarce knew whither (for there was such a continual buzzing in his ears and dancing in his eyes, as almost to take away the power of reflection), he held on at a brisk pace till his strength completely failed him. “I am developing ailments,” she said, meeting his questioning eyes. That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word.
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