But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. " "All right. He was not quite sure whether, after all, he had been wise. " "To-morrow will be too late," replied the widow, in a hollow voice, "I feel it will. There were a few loose, broken fragments of rock to reckon with upon the ledges, and one place where hands did as much work as toes. Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had dropped away from her as the mists used to drop away from the mountain in the morning. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved.
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