She could tell that he was leering at her. He was like a man beside himself. And Anna was conscious of a few moments of exquisite emotion. “I’m not the Devil. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. He was standing by, rating her ladyship,—who can scarcely stir from the sofa,—while I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed that she tried to hide a small casket from him.
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