But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. “What has she told you?” “Everything. " "It ought to be; it cost enough to get it here," said the Scot, ruefully.
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