" At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand. He allowed his voice to drip with sympathy. She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded. There was a case, or something, some years ago. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. “If I sit here,” he said, standing up before her abruptly, “I shall have to shout. The farmer had become obsessed with her and asked her to marry. "If the best nag ever foaled were to throw me in this unlucky spot, I'd blow his brains out.
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