Making her couch upon a heap of hay, she sank at once into a deep and refreshing slumber. " "For mercy's sake, go on!" cried Winifred. " "Accident or not," rejoined Sheppard; "you're no longer pall of mine. "How long will he be laid up?" "Three or four weeks, if he doesn't peg out during the night. I wrote three letters yesterday and tore them up. Their faces were masks of abject horror, sunken and shriveled, their cheekbones protruding.
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