This indifference on the part of the nurse quite disarmed
Mrs. Oleander's suspicions. If she had any wish to carry favor with her
son's patient, or help her to escape, surely she would not sit there in
the kitchen, hemming her new silk handkerchief, all the while. That was
what Susan did, however, and the weary, weary hours of the warm, sunny
day wore blankly on the poor, lone Mollie.
The horrible stillness of the place seemed driving her mad. The endless
monotony of the waves rolling up on the beach was growing unendurable.
The wild waste of sparkling-waters, ending in the low horizon line,
wearied her eyes like the sands of the desert.
"I shall lose all the little reason I ever had if I am kept in this
howling desolation much longer," she said, pressing her hands to her
throbbing temples. "Oh! to shut out this mocking sunshine--to lose sight
of this dreary waste, where no living thing comes! Oh, to get away from
that horrible sea! If I could only die and end it all! But I live on,
and live on where others would be happier and find death."
She sighed wearily, and looked across at the radiant western sky,
gorgeous with the coming sunset.
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