They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. But no matter how you phrase it, the end is the same. She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support. ‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. That is what stands between us, if you would know—that. net/license).
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