His hand fell lightly to her chest where her heart was 211 beating, almost tenderly. He saw it in book-covers, on the stage. Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud. ” For a moment or two he did not speak. Her lips came together with an expression between contentment and the faintest shadow of a smile, her manner was one of quiet reserve, and behind this mask she was wildly discontented and eager for freedom and life. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. Satisfied, however, that she did not notice him, Jonathan glided away as noiselessly as he came, and ascended another short flight of stairs leading to the garret.
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