Every eye was fixed upon the prisoner. ’ ‘The tables, they are turned, I think,’ she returned. I’d ruin the things if I so much as touched one. We have lived under the same roof, but our ways seem to have lain wide apart. “I am going,” she said grimly, with three hairpins in her mouth. Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come. He would refuse to listen and absolve her unshriven. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter.
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