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At Last by Marion Harland
page 145 of 307 (47%)
handkerchief over that she wore, turban-wise, on her head, mumbling
something about "cold ears" and "rheumatiz;" settled herself in a
rush-bottomed chair, put her feet upon the rounds of another, and
was regularly on duty, prepared for any emergency, and to be alarmed
at nothing that might occur.

So strict was the discipline she established over herself in fifteen
minutes, that she did not stir at the creaking of the bolt, or the
shriller warning of the unoiled hinges, as the door moved cautiously
back, and a cloaked form became dimly visible in the opening. A
survey of the inside of the chamber, the unmoving nurse and her
senseless charge, with the fumes of brandy and tobacco, reassured
the visitant. Her stockingless feet were thrust into wadded
slippers; over her white night-dress was a dark-blue wrapper, and,
in addition to this protection against the cold, she was enveloped
in a great shawl, disposed like a cowl about her head. Without
rustle or incautious mis-step she gained the side of the improvised
bed, and leaned over it. The face of the occupant was turned
slightly toward the left shoulder, and away from the light. The
apparition raised herself, with a gesture of impatience, caught the
candle from the rickety table at the head of the mattress, snuffed
it hurriedly, and again stooped toward the recumbent figure, with it
in her hand.

It was then that the vigilant watcher unclosed her flabby lids,
slowly, and without start or exclamation, much as a dozing cat
blinks when a redder sparkle from the fire dazzles her out of
dreams. One hard wink, one bewildered stare, and Pbillis was awake
and wary. Her chin sank yet lower upon her chest, but the black eyes
were rolled upward until they bore directly upon the strange
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