Little by little, she stopped hating him. She had underestimated his animal ability to sense weakness. “I see the difficulty. If you'd read your husband's dying speech, you'd know that he laid his death at Jonathan's door,—and with reason too, as I can testify. Their journey had made them indolent, the afternoon was warm, and it seemed impossible to breathe a sweeter air. "Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. It rained heavily all day, so he did not stir forth.
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