Sunday, November 8, 2015

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breath, an expectant horror. The door, warped and shrunken, was drawn to, but was not fastened, as I could tell by the un- broken line of red light down one side from top to bottom. Making no sound, I laid my hand upCAKNMTNon it, pushed it open a little way, and looked witEWBCDSLhin the hut. I had thought to find it empty or to find it cYAVTQPWrowded. It was neitherOFJIMTQ. A torch lit it, and on the hearth burned a fire. Drawn in front of the blaze was an old rude chair, and in YUTBWGOit sat a slight figure draped from head to foot in a black cloak. The head was bowed and hidden, the LAFPYIRwhole attitude onCEDDGBWe of listlessness and dejection. As I looked, there came a long tremulous sigh, and the headYRVOWHW drooped lower and lower,LDNMXJP as if in a growing hopelessness. The revulsion of feeling was so great that for the moment I was dazed as by a sudden blow. There had been time during the walk WPGIRNBfrom the RWSVBYAgaol for enough of wild and whirling thoughts as to what shouldJAYIRVW greet me in that hut; and now the slightQDVEHMQ figure by the fire, the exquisHVGFOPPite melancholy of its posture, its bent head, the weeping I could GDQXAMUdivine,—I had but one thought, toDNWMNVV comfort her as quickly as I miITSBARGght. Diccon's hand was upon my arm, but I shook it off, and pushing the door open crossHEYQCIXed the uneven and noisy floor to the fire, and bent over the lonely figuQXOXBHVre beEVSHJRUside it. "Jocelyn," I said, "I have kept tryst." As I spAOSIKNJoke, I laid my hand upon the bowed KFRTLTLand covered head. It was raised, the cloak was drawn aside, and there looked me in tOEJFCADhe eyes the Italian. As if it had been the Gorgon's gaze, I was turned to stone. The fFKCJGURilmy eyeQNOQEHBs, the smile that would have been mocking had it not been so very faint, the pallor, tQWMCFFVhe malignance,—I stared and QBHFFTLstared, and my heart grew cold and sick. It was but for a minute; then a warning cry from Diccon roused me. I sprang backward until the width of the hearth




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