Ah! what nonsense it was. Here she was, wide awake again, in her own familiar room, with the firelight on the walls.
… Well, well; sleep was a curious thing; and so was imagination. …
… At any rate she had written to Mr. Cathcart.
A young woman watches with concern as her adopted brother turns to irreligious forces in the hopes of reconnecting with his dead fiancée.
Ah! what nonsense it was. Here she was, wide awake again, in her own familiar room, with the firelight on the walls.
… Well, well; sleep was a curious thing; and so was imagination. …
… At any rate she had written to Mr. Cathcart.