A woman touched him lightly on the arm, and smiled into his face. He refused his food,—and even when better provisions were offered him, rejected them. " "You paint yourself worse than you are, dear Mrs. “Very well,” he said. I pity her from the bottom of my heart. The thought allured him, and therein lay the danger. “You were there, were you?” He laughed a little impatiently. Perhaps it had been pick-pocketed or jostled from her dress in a hunt.
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