Page 566 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

staggering footsteps through the streets returning, See-
ing through blinding rain a beacon shine From household
lamp in happy window burning,—
‘Pauses an instant at the reddened pane To gaze on that
sweet scene of love and duty, Then turns into the wild wet
night again, Lest his sad presence mar its homely beauty.’
Yes, those were the lines. With more of truth in them
than she expected; and yet what business have I sentimen-
talizing. My socius thinks ‘what a puling fool this North
is!’
So, that’s over! Now for Norfolk Island and my purga-
tion.