She arrived about nine o’clock the next evening in a state of tremulous enthusiasm. Making her couch upon a heap of hay, she sank at once into a deep and refreshing slumber. “My dear man,” she exclaimed, “wasn’t that a foregone conclusion?” “You treat the matter lightly,” he continued. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. It was a huge stone placed there by some workmen occupied in repairing the structure.
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