Life in the Iron-Mills; or, the Korl Woman by Rebecca Harding Davis
page 23 of 58 (39%)
page 23 of 58 (39%)
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"They have ample facilities for studying anatomy," sneered
Kirby, glancing at the half-naked figures. "Look," continued the Doctor, "at this bony wrist, and the strained sinews of the instep! A working-woman,--the very type of her class." "God forbid!" muttered Mitchell. "Why?" demanded May, "What does the fellow intend by the figure? I cannot catch the meaning." "Ask him," said the other, dryly, "There he stands,"--pointing to Wolfe, who stood with a group of men, leaning on his ash- rake. The Doctor beckoned him with the affable smile which kind- hearted men put on, when talking to these people. "Mr. Mitchell has picked you out as the man who did this,--I'm sure I don't know why. But what did you mean by it?" "She be hungry." Wolfe's eyes answered Mitchell, not the Doctor. "Oh-h! But what a mistake you have made, my fine fellow! You have given no sign of starvation to the body. It is strong,-- terribly strong. It has the mad, half-despairing gesture of drowning." |
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