She had flung away from her father’s support with the finest assumption of personal independence. She went to her bedroom, but she did not go to bed. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. "Is it poison?" she asked.
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