Sullivan; "poor crathur, you look
like hunger an' distress; there's enough in the house, blessed be them
that sent it! an' you had betther thry an' take some nourishment, any
way;" and she raised her eyes in a silent prayer of relief and ease for
the unhappy woman, whose unhallowed association had, in her opinion,
sealed her doom.
"Will I?--will I?--oh!" she replied, "may you never know misery for
offering it! Oh, bring me something--some refreshment--some food--for
I'm dying with hunger."
Mrs. Sullivan, who, with all her superstition, was remarkable for
charity and benevolence, immediately placed food and drink before her,
which the stranger absolutely devoured--taking care occasionally to
secrete under the protuberance which appeared behind her neck, a portion
of what she ate. This, however, she did, not by stealth, but openly;
merely taking means to prevent the concealed thing, from being, by any
possible accident discovered.
When the craving of hunger was satisfied, she appeared to suffer less
from the persecution of her tormentor than, before; whether it was, as
Mrs. Sullivan thought, that the food with which she plied it, appeased
in some degree its irritability, or lessened that of the stranger, it
was difficult to say; at all events, she became more composed; her eyes
resumed somewhat of a natural expression; each sharp ferocious glare,
which shot, from them! with such intense and rapid flashes, partially
disappeared; her knit brows dilated, and part of a forehead, which had
once been capacious and handsome, lost the contractions which deformed
it by deep wrinkles.
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