The Man Who Laughs


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with the tempest, with the cold, with the night.  
Before him once more lay the plain, shapeless in the density of  
impenetrable shadow. He examined the ground, seeking a footpath.  
Suddenly he bent down. He had discovered, in the snow, something which  
seemed to him a track.  
It was indeed a track--the print of a foot. The print was cut out  
clearly in the whiteness of the snow, which rendered it distinctly  
visible. He examined it. It was a naked foot; too small for that of a  
man, too large for that of a child.  
It was probably the foot of a woman. Beyond that mark was another, then  
another, then another. The footprints followed each other at the  
distance of a step, and struck across the plain to the right. They were  
still fresh, and slightly covered with little snow. A woman had just  
passed that way.  
This woman was walking in the direction in which the child had seen the  
smoke. With his eyes fixed on the footprints, he set himself to follow  
them.  
CHAPTER II.  
222  


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Quick Jump
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