It was not until the morning of the fifth day that the constant vigil was broken. ‘Will that be all, ma’am?’ ‘Yes, yes. Her husband was drinking in the tavern with the other guests. He walked on for an hour longer, till he could scarcely drag one leg after another. “It was poison—why not?” she answered. John stared palely. I didn’t think—I don’t know what I thought. Briefly explained, she was as the child who discards the rag baby for the living one. .
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