She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. Wood bore up with great fortitude against the shock, attended the inquest, delivered his evidence with composure, and gave directions afterwards for the funeral, which took place on the day but one following—Sunday. Into this hole in the wall and out of it the native stream flowed from sunrise to sunset, when the stream mysteriously ceased. Afraid there'll be a love-affair. Time after time he reminded her of how powerless she would be without him, how unkind the world was towards single women.
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