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’ ‘So this is the way you serve me,’ exclaimed Melusine, her quick temper flaring as she jumped up, slammed her hands on the desk and leaned towards him over it. His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous intermissions. He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether. Her roving eagerness was at all times shaded with shyness, reserve, repression. I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. He recognised Anna, and at once addressed her. His manner, however, was as stern and haughty as ever, and his glances retained their accustomed fire. ’ Mrs Prudence Sindlesham, a widow of several years’ standing, so she told Gerald, was a scarecrow of a female, long and lank of limb in a figure that had once been willowy. CHAPTER VII The astonishing collapse of Spurlock created a tableau of short duration.
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