Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. “I hate this!” Lucy accused him, pointing to the Michelle. But you don’t particularly want to do the job that sets you free—for its own sake. He stooped to recover it, and his face was hidden. The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on that island of hers! The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned gratefully toward the sound. When he recovered his mental faculties, he would lie there, neutral; they could save him or let him die, as they pleased; and the doctor knew that he would wear himself out forcing his own will to live into this neutrality. This getting up at dawn—real dawn—and working until seven was a distinct novelty.
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