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. She would meet him upon this ground: he should never be given the slightest hint that she was unhappy. Light flooded the uncarpeted chamber, revealing the decayed state of the place. The old lady’s face was stiff with anger. This amazing world she had set forth to discover! Yesterday at this time she had had no thought in her head about Canton. She withdrew her head with a little moan, and resumed her flight. The hurricane had now reached its climax. His cheeks were puffy, and his eyes blood-shot. That old chap has a remarkable range in reading. His interest was divided: while his ears drank in the sounds, his glance constantly roved from Ruth to the performer and back to Ruth. The blood will rest on your head. “Let me think,” said Ann Veronica. There’s plenty to be got out of life in a decent sort of way.
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