[Barry Lyndon by William Makepeace Thackeray]@TWC D-Link book
Barry Lyndon

CHAPTER XVI
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She was a woman who took up and threw off a greater number of dear friends than any one I ever knew.

To some of these female darlings she began presently to write about my unworthy self, and it was with a sentiment of extreme satisfaction I found at length that the widow was growing dreadfully afraid of me; calling me her bete noire, her dark spirit, her murderous adorer, and a thousand other names indicative of her extreme disquietude and terror.

It was: 'The wretch has been dogging my chariot through the park,' or, 'my fate pursued me at church,' and 'my inevitable adorer handed me out of my chair at the mercer's,' or what not.

My wish was to increase this sentiment of awe in her bosom, and to make her believe that I was a person from whom escape was impossible.
To this end I bribed a fortune-teller, whom she consulted along with a number of the most foolish and distinguished people of Dublin, in those days; and who, although she went dressed like one of her waiting-women, did not fail to recognise her real rank, and to describe as her future husband her persevering adorer Redmond Barry, Esquire.

This incident disturbed her very much.


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