Chapter 8 - (VERSO)
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head and another at her side, although it was not yet dark. A great dread of darkness had always been one of Naomi’s peculiarities.
She was tossing restlessly on her poor couch, while Maggie crouched on a box at the foot. Mr. Leonard had not seen her for five years, and he was shocked at the change in her. She was much wasted; her clear-cut aquiline features had been of the type which becomes indescribably witch-like in old age, and, though Naomi Clark was barely sixty, she looked as if she might be a hundred. Her hair streamed over the pillow in white, uncared for tresses, and the hands that plucked at the bed-clothes were lik
TEXT ANNOTATION
From "Each in His Own Tongue."