A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. I am fairly well hardened in iniquity—your iniquity, Annabel—but I decline to have a husband thrust upon me. D'ye hear. You're welcome to it. ’ ‘He let them go?’ asked Miss Froxfield incredulously. " "I'll take my chance," replied Jonathan, with a sinister smile.
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