‘I can’t think how I’ve tolerated myself all these years. She would wake in the night to repeat her bitter cry: “Oh, why did I burn those notes?” It added greatly to the annoyance of the situation that she had twice seen Ramage in the Avenue since her return to the shelter of her father’s roof. The poor widow was thrown into an agony of distress on learning that a robbery had been committed, in which her son (for she could not doubt that Jack was one of the boys,) was implicated; nor was her anxiety alleviated by Mrs. All at once she realised that Kimble had halted, leaning heavily against the wall. For a pity, she has chosen to remain, and it has been her death.
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