Then her head disappeared suddenly in her hands, and her shoulders shook violently. Her thought spoke aloud. The expression was wholly different. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. While this was passing, Jonathan had ridden back to Marvel to tell him that all was ready, and to give him his last instructions. He moved to one side, bowing and gesturing to the door.
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