Her eyes were fixed upon the ground, the pink colour coming and going in her cheeks was very delicate and girlish. She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared. " "Fool!" cried Wild, taking up the body, "what are you afraid of? After all," he added, pausing, "he may be of more use to me alive than dead. He made his speech a little elaborately. She recognized him as the man who had blundered into the wrong room. I will not be persecuted in this way by you.
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