“Splendid you are looking to-day, Miss Stanley,” he said. She had come to the end of her resources. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off. Holding the lamp over her rigid but beautiful features, Jonathan, with some anxiety, placed his hand upon her breast to ascertain whether the heart still beat. It was a habit she had taken from Remenham House, but could not wear because of the colour which must draw attention.
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