She closed her eyes, discerning the divinations he had been up to during her violin concert. He made a quick movement towards her, but she did not flinch. What was yet more worthy of note was, that the widow's countenance had an air of refinement about it, of which it was utterly destitute before, and which seemed to intimate that her true position in society was far above that wherein accident had placed her. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. The knowledge breathed into her heart a satisfying warmth. But I shan't let him off thus. Easily. Pah!’ She flounced about and, crossing to the bed, plonked down on it, pointedly averting her face and resting the large pistol in her lap.
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