But her cries, instead of moving her assailant's compassion, only added to his fury. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. She felt a new warmth in her blood, a strange sense of elation crept over her. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. " So saying, he rushed out, followed by Ireton and Langley. She felt privileged above other women at parties, where she was on display as all the duchesses and queens looked upon her with envy as he was so clearly entranced by her in every way. No sooner had they entered the room than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his stratagem. . ‘He was very kind to me.
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