"I suppose he'll be on his feet any day now. She had told him, point blank, that since the Church had neither annulled the first marriage nor sanctified the second one, she was not his wife. Her face scarcely reflected his enthusiasm. "How long will he be laid up?" "Three or four weeks, if he doesn't peg out during the night. They will claim particular attention hereafter. " As he said this, he moved forward a few paces, when, finding his feet glued to the ground by some adhesive substance, he stooped to feel what it was, but instantly withdrew his hand, with an exclamation of horror. Confidence in himself would strengthen him. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. She was carefree.
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