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I. “Wherefore Is Light Given to Him That Is in Misery”

           

           Eustaciahadnotbeenlongindoorsafterherlookatthemoonlightwhenasoftfootstepcameuptothehouse,andThomasinwasannouncedbythewomandownstairs.

           “Ah,Thomasin!Thankyouforcomingtonight,”saidClymwhensheenteredtheroom.“HereamI,yousee.SuchawretchedspectacleamI,thatIshrinkfrombeingseenbyasinglefriend,andalmostfromyou.”

           “Youmustnotshrinkfromme,dearClym,”saidThomasinearnestly,inthatsweetvoiceofherswhichcametoasuffererlikefreshairintoaBlackHole.“Nothinginyoucanevershockmeordrivemeaway.Ihavebeenherebefore,butyoudon’trememberit.”

           “Yes,Ido;Iamnotdelirious,Thomasin,norhaveIbeensoatall.Don’tyoubelievethatiftheysayso.IamonlyingreatmiseryatwhatIhavedone,andthat,withtheweakness,makesmeseemmad.Butithasnotupsetmyreason.DoyouthinkIshouldrememberallaboutmymother’sdeathifIwereoutofmymind?Nosuchgoodluck.Twomonthsandahalf,Thomasin,thelastofherlife,didmypoormotherlivealone,distractedandmourningbecauseofme;yetshewasunvisitedbyme,thoughIwaslivingonlysixmilesoff.Twomonthsandahalf—seventy-fivedaysdidthesunriseandsetuponherinthatdesertedstatewhichadogdidn’tdeserve!Poorpeoplewhohadnothingincommonwithherwouldhavecaredforher,andvisitedherhadtheyknownhersicknessandloneliness;butI,whoshouldhavebeenalltoher,stayedawaylikeacur.IfthereisanyjusticeinGodletHimkillmenow.Hehasnearlyblindedme,butthatisnotenough.

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