The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. But not finding it, he had again recourse to the bludgeon, and began beating the hand fixed on the upper rail, until, by smashing the fingers, he forced it to relinquish its hold. Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. She is poor, and she will take nothing from my husband, the man she had deceived for my sake, and he, on his part, gravely disapproves of her as ‘Alcide. “We do not want the men,” said Miss Miniver; “we do not want them, with their sneers and loud laughter. He pointed to where the lights still burned in Anna’s windows. ‘But, Gérard—’ ‘Don’t start arguing,’ he said in a tone that brooked no defiance. "But I wish her hand had been as deadly as yours. "Who's there?—Pshaw! it's only the wind. He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. Suddenly she understood.
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