Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. You creep around in a nun’s habit, peering into a private ballroom. . Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. " "Company!" echoed Rachel; "at this time of night?" "Company, child," repeated Kneebone. Below was an uninspiring street, a thoroughfare of boarding-houses and apartments. At times he seemed to be claiming pity from her; at times he was threatening her with her check and exposure; at times he was boasting of his inflexible will, and how, in the end, he always got what he wanted. It was surely odd that her thought should pick up that picture and recast it so vividly.
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