" "I am not unprotected," rejoined the poor woman; "there's some one at the window. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. A young man was playing the banjo. “I want to lay all my life at your feet. —I'll give him the edication of a prig,—teach him the use of his forks betimes,—and make him, in the end, as clever a cracksman as his father. She is the image of what I was like, and she has a better voice. Joan told me it was hung somewhere in the house, only I couldn’t remember where after all this time. ” Part 4 They lay side by side in a shallow nest of turf and mosses among bowlders and stunted bushes on a high rock, and watched the day sky deepen to evening between the vast precipices overhead and looked over the tree-tops down the widening gorge. That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. Well, my dear, it is time you stopped wallowing in your sorrows like a common wretch.
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