“Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. ” Lucy appeared and appraised him briefly, nonchalantly. I burned it. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. It did not cheer or fortify him with false courage and recklessness; it simply enveloped him in a mist of unreality. Part of his head was swathed in linen bandages. Advancing towards the Master, and claiming an audience, which was instantly granted, Jonathan, without much circumlocution, related the sum of the strange story he had just learnt from Wood, omitting nothing except a few trifling particulars, which he thought it politic to keep back; and, with this view, he said not a word of there being any probability of capturing the fugitive, but, on the contrary, roundly asserted that his informant had witnessed that person's escape.
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