David Courtlaw. ToC During the whole of the next day and night, the poor widow hovered like a ghost about the precincts of the debtors' garrison,—for admission (by the Master's express orders,) was denied her. “Will he live?” The doctor shook his head. . And even she was forced to admit to herself that this last resource of hers was a slender reed on which to lean. The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls. Night and day have been alike to me.
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