“I want to be—oh, why can’t I die?” she wailed. “It’s all me, every bit of this, and God won’t let me die.”
Oh the young miserable face, so white and wet in the moonlight! A great lump came into Pip’s throat, and in his heart a sudden knowledge of the dearness of his sisters.
“Oh, you poor little thing!” he said.
He put her on the old seat under the mulberry tree near, and went away.
[257]
]When he came back he was leading one of the horses by the bridle over the grass.
“What are you going to do?” she asked miserably.
And “Ride you home,” was his answer.
“[HE LED THE HORSE OUT OF THE GATE, AND CARRIED HER TO IT.]”
[He led the] horse out of the gate, carried her to it, and put her just on the saddle; then he got up himself behind, and held her with one hand and the reins with the other.