He’s dead. " "I know you'll contradict it, Sir," said the widow, looking at Wood as if she dreaded to have her fears confirmed,—"I know you will. His hair was thick and brown and his skin was fair. The wall of the sky, the wall of the horizon, the wall behind which each human being hid—the wall behind which she herself was hiding! If only her mother had lived, her darling mother! Presently the unhappy puzzlement left her face; and an inward glow began to lighten it.
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