All the light and life of day came on; and amidst it all, and pressing down the grass whose every blade bore twenty tiny lives, lay the dead man, with his stark and rigid face turned upwards to the sky—Chap. l.
"I'll be married in the bottle-green," cried Arthur Gride—Chap. li.
"Thieves! thieves!" shrieked the usurer, starting up and folding his book to his breast; "robbers! murder!"—Chap. liii.
