The little girl uttered no remonstrance; but, replacing the flowers in the basket, burst into tears, and withdrew. What was she going to do? One main idea possessed her: she must get away from home, she must assert herself at once or perish. “About my sister,” she repeated slowly. 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.
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