Grace, confidence, the power of movement even, seemed gone from her. She became aware that at regular intervals a light flashed upon her face and a bodiless eye regarded her, and this, as the night wore on, became a torment. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. You mustn’t do things like that. Sister’s got married to that bounder Ferringhall. The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom. I knew it.
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