"Bury her in Willesden churchyard, as she requested, on Sunday," said Jack. He seemed to charge her with the ruin of their situation. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. He smiled. ” “Coffee! Bah!” The newcomer picked her way across the floor with daintily uplifted skirts, and subsided into a deck chair of stretched canvas. "Who knows but this key may open a golden lock one of these days?" And, picking it up, he thrust it into his pocket. He would condemn her to the vengeance of the mob all for refusing to marry him. They can’t help seeing things in the way they do. He was no match for Brendon. During the previous night he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts had raced in an endless circle—action without progress. The hansom sped through the crowded streets. She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening.
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