She had a feeling at his departure as of an immense cavity, of something enormously gone; she could not tell whether it was infinite regret or infinite relief. Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury. "It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. ’ ‘So this is the way you serve me,’ exclaimed Melusine, her quick temper flaring as she jumped up, slammed her hands on the desk and leaned towards him over it. ” Anna glanced momentarily towards her sister, but Annabel neither spoke nor moved. Not fit to be dust on your boots.
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