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" "Come, jump up," cried Blueskin, mounting his steed, "and I'll soon wisk you to town. The effort to maintain her self-control was almost superhuman. For a moment she too had started and faltered in her exit from the room. Perhaps you'll call that charity: I call it defeating the ends of justice. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. ” Her mind drifted into a speculation about her sister. .
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