His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor. And, as he quitted the room, the poor widow fell with her face upon the floor. Hope reared. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. But how could you get—Who gave you credit? “You see,” said Ann Veronica, “my landlady kept on my room while I was in Holloway, and the fees for the College mounted up pretty considerably.
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