Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees. His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended. What was she going to do? One main idea possessed her: she must get away from home, she must assert herself at once or perish. “You say you want a vote,” said Mr. ‘Aha,’ grunted Gerald with satisfaction, squinting up at the two open shutters on the second floor.
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