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he rude market…place of the Puritansettlement; with all the townspeople assembled and levelling theirstern regards at Hester Prynne… yes; at herself… who stood on thescaffold of the pillory; an infant on her arm; and the letter A; inscarlet; fantastically embroidered with gold thread; upon her bosom! Could it be true? She clutched the child so fiercely to herbreast; that it sent forth a cry; she turned her eyes downward atthe scarlet letter; and even touched it with her finger; to assureherself that the infant and the shame were real。 Yes!… these wereher realities… all else had vanished! III。 THE RECOGNITION。 FROM this intense consciousness of being the object of severe anduniversal observation; the wearer of the scarlet letter was atlength relieved; by discerning; on the outskirts of the crowd; afigure which irresistibly took possession of her thoughts。 AnIndian; in his native garb; was standing there; but the red men werenot so infrequent visitors of the English settlements; that one ofthem would have attracted any notice from Hester Prynne; at such atime; much less would he have excluded all other objects and ideasfrom her mind。 By the Indian's side; and evidently sustaining apanionship with him; stood a white man; clad in a strangedisarray of civilised and savage costume。 He was small in stature; with a furrowed visage; which; as yet;could hardly be termed aged。 There was a remarkable intelligence inhis features; as of a person who had so cultivated his mental partthat it could not fail to mould the physical to itself; and beemanifest by unmistakable tokens。 Although; by a seemingly carelessarrangement of his heterogeneous garb; he had endeavoured to concealor abate the peculiarity; it was sufficiently evident to
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