There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. One more passer-by; and always would she remember his patience and tenderness and disinterestedness. If Ray left the house, it would be easy. The idiots are marching through the streets in processions from town to town, whipping their own backs until they are covered in blood, spreading the bloody Pestilence wherever they go! The dead pile in the streets like timber. "And, oh! forgive me, though I can never forgive myself, for the misery I have caused you.
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