Wood, regarding her husband with a glance of vindictive triumph. She posed herself before her mirror and surveyed herself with gravely thoughtful, gravely critical, and yet admiring eyes. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. "He has escaped!" exclaimed the knight; "we have searched every corner of the house without finding a trace of him.
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