Mrs.Jarvis, who is fifty years of age, reposes in the camp in the hazy moonlight.
"...

and," said Mrs.Flanders, straightening her back, "I never cared for Mr.Parker." "Neither did I," said Mrs.Jarvis.They began to walk home.
But their voices floated for a little above the camp.

The moonlight destroyed nothing.

The moor accepted everything.

Tom Gage cries aloud so long as his tombstone endures.