Utterly devastated, Mary did not resist.
Only when they were safely shut up inside the lair did the old woman
give vent to her fear and vexation.
"By all the gods, girl. . .you shall do no such thing again! Did you
want to lose your own soul as well?"
"I don't care!" cried her daughter sullenly. "I don't care."
And with the utterance of these words, rising as they did from her
long suppressed darker nature, something precious and fine collapsed
inside her: the will to live, and keep giving. She moved listlessly to
sit before the fire, not for warmth, but only to turn her back on the
endless pain and disillusion of this world.
All was lost, and darkness overwhelmed her.
Thirteen
The next morning she was just the same, sitting silently before the
fire, with unseeing eyes gazing into it, thinking not of light but of
darkness. Her mother, who had slept little and worried much, offered
her tea and breakfast, which she refused. She asked her then to build
up the fire, to which the girl consented, though not for any reason
that her mother might have hoped.
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