Um. He was therefore obliged to use the iron bar, which he did with as much caution as circumstances would permit. Then she raised the glass nearer to her lips. The ruffled chemise-front under the wide lapels of her waistcoat and jacket no longer quivered, and her pose, with the full cloth petticoat spreading about her, was relaxed. It was a night of storm and terror, which promised each moment to become more stormy and more terrible. Always as black and bitter as gall. It just made me mad to the boiling point. “I am tired,” she said, “and I want to rest. 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. I can’t do it even decently myself, and I dare not run the risk of ruining all my clothes.
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