" "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. What was yet more worthy of note was, that the widow's countenance had an air of refinement about it, of which it was utterly destitute before, and which seemed to intimate that her true position in society was far above that wherein accident had placed her. By this time, the churchyard was crowded with spectators, some of whom dispersed in different directions in quest of the other robber. Shari smiled and Mike whispered to her. You have been burning paper, I see. \"Thanks.
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