"Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the cell. "You'll feel better after it. I shall not part with you again. With one or two exceptions, there were no pews; and, as the intercourse with London was then but slight, the seats were occupied almost exclusively by the villagers. “Yes?” he said. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds. I make no apology for not being with you now.
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