Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. ’ She edged sideways a little more, her eyes on the pistol in his hand. A cool gray light illuminated small portions of the stone floor. . By this time, she had so far succeeded in calming herself, that she answered the greetings of the neighbours whom she encountered on her way to the sacred edifice—if sorrowfully, still composedly. She made no attempt to answer her sister’s question.
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