C. It isn't for their sakes, it's for your own. "Sir Cecil is no more. Winifred listened to his narration with the profoundest attention; and, when it concluded, her tearful eye and throbbing bosom told how deeply her feelings had been interested. It struck his forehead, splitting it, and brought him to his knees. She did not wait, but grabbed up the lantern and slid into the passage, calling to them to hurry. Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance. "You mean, it doesn't matter?" "Poor Hoddy! When you were ill in Canton, out of your head, you babbled words.
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