A simple wooden monument was placed over the grave, but without any name or date. ‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. “Do you know, I have been wondering what had become of you,” she said. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. She drew in a deep breath of the sweet mountain air.
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