She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground. His voice had broken. Even though you cursed your own existence, I had not been so joyous in a thousand years! Finally, he took the family and remaining servants away to the Manor. When Jack entered the cell, she was talking to herself in the muttering unconnected way peculiar to her distracted condition; but, after her eye had rested on him some time, the fixed expression of her features relaxed, and a smile crossed them. It was not until the morning of the fifth day that the constant vigil was broken.
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