What could she do? Reluctantly, at a second curt command, she began to step across the uncarpeted floor, her eyes never leaving the threatening pistol. ’ His face changed, all the humour and tenderness leaving it in an instant. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out.
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