And at this moment his mind leaped away from all restraint toward the sudden prospect of deliverance from his long bondage.
"Is she dead ?" said the voice that predominated over every other within him.

"If she is, I may marry Nancy; and then I shall be a good fellow in future, and have no secrets, and the child--shall be taken care of somehow." But across that vision came the other possibility--"She may live, and then it's all up with me." Godfrey never knew how long it was before the door of the cottage opened and Mr.Kimble came out.

He went forward to meet his uncle, prepared to suppress the agitation he must feel, whatever news he was to hear.
"I waited for you, as I'd come so far," he said, speaking first.
"Pooh, it was nonsense for you to come out: why didn't you send one of the men?
There's nothing to be done.

She's dead--has been dead for hours, I should say." "What sort of woman is she ?" said Godfrey, feeling the blood rush to his face.
"A young woman, but emaciated, with long black hair.

Some vagrant--quite in rags.