She had thought it a mirror, because it was her. He found himself thinking up all the psychology which he had ever read. She wallowed for a time in the thought of Capes, unable to escape from his image and the idea of his presence in her life. You won't have him long. After all, what can it matter? It was just to make sure. ” “She doesn’t develop a specialty. "See the devil!—not I," cried Wood impatiently. "My God! will you see your child strangled before your eyes, and not so much as scream for help?" said Wood, staring at the widow with a look of surprise and horror. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. "It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me.
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