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As he stood there the silence of the old house knocked upon his heart like sound and quick fears sprang up within him of a sudden death, or of Betty weeping for him somewhere alone in the stillness.
On coming to her room after her interview with her brother, she had fallen first into a long fit of weeping, and then, after much restless pacing to and fro, she had put her hands to her head in a kind of despair, and had bidden Dalgetty give her the new medicine. 'I must lie down and sleep sleep! she had said, 'or
"Yes, yes, come," said the other; and without enquiring what Gorgo's trouble might be, moved only by the mysterious charm of finding another in like sorrow with herself, she drew the girl to her and bending over her, at length found relief in tears. The two weeping women sat in silence, side by side, while in front of them the orgy went on its frantic course.
VI. Three stretchers might arrive from the shining sands, at the town where the women were weeping and wringing their hands. In that case Miss Mapp saw herself busily employed in strengthening poor Evie, who now was running about like a mouse from group to group picking up crumbs of Cosmic Consciousness.
Wade noticed red eyes and other traces of weeping. "What is the matter?" she asked, sharply. "Have you any news?" The girl answered with a faltering negative. She, too, had her unhappy story. A Polterham mechanic who made love to her lost his employment, went to London with hopes and promises, and now for more than half a year had given no sign of his existence. Mrs.
A new legend now began to circulate among our troops; and it was, that when he and the French officer came face to face once more, there would be weeping in France. The war went on and through it went the exact picture of the French officer on the one side, and the bodily reality upon the other until the Battle of Toulouse was fought.
But I wept with exceeding weeping until I made him weep with me and, looking at him I began to recite these couplets:
Father Johannes took her hand, and gently repeated the old legend; while the Stone-maiden listened with wide-open eyes. "I remember it all now," she said, as the puzzled look faded from her face. "We had but just landed when the thick cloud came down, and a shower of stones fell upon us. My father was smitten down with all his followers, and I only was left weeping upon the shore.
At this point she found her handkerchief, and, burying her face in it, went on crying. Once more I found myself in the same protracted dilemma. Though vexed, I felt sorry for her, since her tears appeared to be genuine even though I also had an idea that it was not so much for my mother that she was weeping as for the fact that she was unhappy, and had known happier days.
But I have myself been on the track of such butcheries again and again. A Victorian lady told me the following incident. She heard a child's pitiful cry in the bush. On tracing it, she found a little girl weeping over her younger brother. She said, "The white men poisoned our father and mother.
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