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Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 1804-1864

"The Scarlet Letter"

It seemed hardly the face of a
man alive, with such a death-like hue: it was hardly a man with
life in him, that tottered on his path so nervously, yet
tottered, and did not fall!
One of his clerical brethren--it was the venerable John
Wilson--observing the state in which Mr. Dimmesdale was left by
the retiring wave of intellect and sensibility, stepped forward
hastily to offer his support. The minister tremulously, but
decidedly, repelled the old man's arm. He still walked onward,
if that movement could be so described, which rather resembled
the wavering effort of an infant, with its mother's arms in
view, outstretched to tempt him forward. And now, almost
imperceptible as were the latter steps of his progress, he had
come opposite the well-remembered and weather-darkened scaffold,
where, long since, with all that dreary lapse of time between,
Hester Prynne had encountered the world's ignominious stare.
There stood Hester, holding little Pearl by the hand! And there
was the scarlet letter on her breast! The minister here made a
pause; although the music still played the stately and rejoicing
march to which the procession moved.


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