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In doing this, he chanced to raise his eyes and half fancied he beheld, shaded by a pillar at the extremity of the western aisle, the horrible countenance of the thief-taker. Somewhere in the world would be his people, perhaps his mother; and it might soften the bitterness, of the return to consciousness if he found a woman at his bedside. As though it was indelicate—it’s just a sort of shyness. She crawled over and caught at the skirts of this white woman who understood. "Something more than whisky did that. . He looked at her with an expression of comical despair.
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