The difference between the man that hates and the man that kills may be nowhere but in the courage.

These are _grewsome_ thinkings: let us leave them--but hating with them.
All the afternoon Sepia hovered about Mr.Rcdmain's door, down upon Mewks every moment he appeared.

Her head ached; she could hardly breathe.

Rest she could not.

Once when Mewks, coming from the room, told her his master was asleep, she crept in, and, softly approaching the head of the bed, looked at him from behind, then stole out again.
"He seems dying, Mewks," she said.
"Oh, no, miss! I've often seen him as bad.