“You are not going out—this evening, I trust,” that lady asked, a trifle dismayed. She had intended to be quietly dignified, but he was in a smouldering rage from the beginning, and began by assuming, which alone was more than flesh and blood could stand, that the insurrection was over and that she was coming home submissively. The gate was opened; the coffin brought into the churchyard; and Jack, whose eyes were filled with tears, saw Mr. " "Mr.
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