She stood, as it were, directed doorward, with her eyes watching every movement, listening to him, repelled by him and yet dimly understanding. " "It matters not what I think," replied Wild. “There is my aunt,” she said. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. ” She shrugged her shoulders slightly. Before the congregation separated, the clergyman descended from the pulpit; and, followed by the coffin-bearers and mourners, and by Jack at a respectful distance, entered the churchyard. She had changed into dungarees herself and kept her hair as it was.
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