" "Whom do you mean?" demanded Jackson. Which is the nearest way to the river?" "Why, it's an awkward road to direct you," returned Jonathan. Lucy kicked her side, then her wounded leg, dislodging her. Old and dilapidated, the widow's domicile looked the very picture of desolation and misery. She heard him come in; the light burned on. He encouraged her to join him in his debauchery. It isn't as if he were stricken with typhoid or pneumonia or something like that. “We’ll go to a place where we can have a private room,” he said. ” “Oh. “There is something to be said for the lady-like theory after all,” she admitted. " So saying, he closed the door. The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much. The lights rolled over, and were extinguished. She looked at her for a moment fixedly. Ah! I shall never forget the figure Jack cut on that occasion.
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