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CHAPTER XVI
But it brought no solace to the mind of the weak, hard-hearted, and guilty
son. He had succeeded once more in temporarily soothing his conscience with
some narcotic of false comfort, and now slept the sleep of the houseless,
whose covering was narrower than he could wrap himself in. Ah, those
nights! Alas for the sleepless human soul out in the eternal cold! But so
heartless was James, that, if his mother had come to him in the morning
with her tear-dimmed eyes, he would never have asked himself what could
ail her; would never even have seen that she was unhappy; least of all
would have suspected himself the cause of her red eyes and aching head, or
that the best thing in him was that mental uneasiness of which he was
constantly aware. Thank God, there was no way round the purifying fire! he
could not escape it; he must pass through it!
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