It was a great relief to arrive at last at that pause when she could say to her aunt, “Now, dear?” and rise and hold back the curtain through the archway. There was, it might be said, a double illumination. " "How does Jack bear it?" inquired Mrs. She pushed at the closer of the two soldiers bearing the precious burden. A little love from him would be enough. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts.
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