CHAPTER XIX. . . The morning swims in the lagoon had thickened the red corpuscle. Observing Spurlock's spellbound attitude, he clapped the boy on the shoulder. And so gentle as the poor creature is, when she's not in her wild fits—it would melt a heart of stone to see her. As soon, however, as the last solemn rites were over, and the remains of the unfortunate woman committed to their final resting-place in Willesden churchyard, his firmness completely deserted him, and he sank beneath the weight of his affliction.
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