That her husband was not touching her anymore grew to be like a disease, something to be cured. He was standing by, rating her ladyship,—who can scarcely stir from the sofa,—while I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed that she tried to hide a small casket from him. It depresses one, you know. It had been brighter than the rest, for dawn light had come in through high unshuttered casements above the bookshelves. But I’d have done it without, though it weren’t my place. Dunstable’s contributions to the conversation were entirely in the form of nods; whenever Alderman Dunstable praised or blamed she nodded twice or thrice, according to the requirements of his emphasis. ‘This, as you see, is an identity for your cousin, André Valade. She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. A man, then, rushed up the entry, and, seizing the unlucky carpenter by the collar, presented a drawn sword to his throat.
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