But a far greater affliction was in store for her. Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her reason. He heard the door close; and in a little while he fell into a doze; and there came a dream filled with broken pictures, each one of which the girl dominated. His new wife’s face was sweet and angelic with hair the color of flax, her belly already visibly large beneath a roe skin pelt. " "Poor soul!" ejaculated her son.
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