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Updated: October 28, 2025
George Sheldon and Nancy Woolper left the room together, the Yorkshirewoman carrying a tray of empty phials and glasses, and amongst them the cup of beef-tea. "He seems in a bad way to-night, Nancy," said George, with a backward jerk of his head towards the sick-chamber. "He is in a bad way, Mr. George," answered the woman gravely, "let Mr. Philip think what he will.
Woolper there had been a species of disagreement, which the Yorkshirewoman described as a "standfurther." Thus occupied in simple pleasures and simple cares, the lives of Mr. and Mrs. Hawkehurst went on, untroubled by any fear of that crime-burdened wretch whose image haunted the dreams and meditations of Ann Woolper. For these two Mr. Sheldon was numbered among the dead.
It was with an effort that he steadied himself sufficiently to ask the usual conventional question in the usual conventional tone. "Is she any better this morning, Ann?" "Yes, sir, she is much better," the Yorkshirewoman answered solemnly. "She is where none can harm her now." Yes; it was the usual periphrase of these vulgar people. He knew all their cant by heart. "You mean to say she is dead?"
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