Jonathan gave utterance to a low whistle. And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company. She crawled underneath the soft white sheets, reclining and pulling the blankets up to her chin. " "Six weeks have elapsed since that fatal night," replied Jack. A bumper round, gentlemen. “They seem smaller, you know, even physically smaller,” she said. "Poor thing!" muttered he, as the widow departed on her errand, "she's seen better days and better circumstances than she'll ever see again, I'm sure. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think.
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