Esther went on, without noticing Mary's look. The very action of
speaking was so painful to her, and so much interrupted by the hard,
raking little cough, which had been her constant annoyance for
months, that she was too much engrossed by the physical difficulty
of utterance, to be a very close observer.
"There could be no mistake if they had found it. Look at your name,
together with the very name of this court! And in Jem's handwriting
too, or I'm much mistaken. Look, Mary!"
And now she did watch her.
Mary took the paper and flattened it; then suddenly stood stiff up,
with irrepressible movement, as if petrified by some horror abruptly
disclosed; her face, strung and rigid; her lips compressed tight, to
keep down some rising exclamation. She dropped on her seat, as
suddenly as if the braced muscles had in an instant given way. But
she spoke no word.
"It is his handwriting--isn't it?" asked Esther, though Mary's
manner was almost confirmation enough.
"You will not tell. You never will tell?" demanded Mary, in a tone
so sternly earnest, as almost to be threatening.
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