She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. "Thanks to you," said the doctor. "It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. “I will take my chance. “They might do you good,” she remarked. Lights were on and Michelle’s mother was up, occasionally pacing as Michelle and Lucy had been gone for over two hours.
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