It was astonishing how seldom it was that his instincts betrayed him. He must fight the thought continually, day in and day out. All alone; and nobody cared whether he lived or died. "To those who, like me, have never been able to get out of the dark and dreary paths of life, the grave is indeed a refuge, and the sooner they reach it the better. On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. “Better,” said Ann Veronica, with an unreal alacrity. If you knew your aunt were alive, if she expected you, that would be different.
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