She could cry now, poor thing, and so little by little recover herself.

Words to utter her thanks she had none; she could only look something of what she felt.

Clara made her undress and lie down with little Tom on the mattress.

In a quarter of an hour the candle was extinguished, and but for the wind, which rattled sashes and doors, and made ghostly sounds in the chimneys, there was silence throughout the house.
Something awoke Clara before dawn.

She sat up, and became aware that Jane was talking and crying wildly, evidently re-acting in her sleep the scene of a few hours ago.