questions an' she didn't know what to say."

Mary told him her story about the midnight
wuthering of the wind which had wakened her
and about the faint far-off sounds of the complaining
voice which had led her down the dark corridors
with her candle and had ended with her
opening of the door of the dimly lighted room with
the carven four-posted bed in the corner. When
she described the small ivory-white face and the
strange black-rimmed eyes Dickon shook his head.

"Them's just like his mother's eyes, only hers
was always laughin', they say," he said. "They
say as Mr. Craven can't bear to see him when he's
awake an' it's because his eyes is so like his mother's
an' yet looks so different in his miserable bit
of a face."

"Do you think he wants him to die?" whispered
Mary.

"No, but he wishes he'd never been born.
Mother she says that's th' worst thing on earth
for a child. Them as is not wanted scarce ever
thrives. Mester Craven he'd buy anythin' as
money could buy for th' poor lad but he'd like to
forget as he's on earth. For one thing, he's afraid
he'll look at him some day and find he's growed
hunchback."

"Colin's so afraid of it himself that he won't
sit up," said Mary. "He says he's always thinking

[[202]]

p201 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p202w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p203

v?