‘Gérard, do not go,’ she cried, breathless. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. ‘Courage,’ urged her spouse. “Who will you stop with?” “I shall go on my own. . Her sleepless night had left her languid but not stupefied, and for an hour or so the work distracted her altogether from her troubles. In some incomprehensible way that back view made her feel sorry for Alice.
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