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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. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. He hung precariously on the ragged edge, but he hung there. Gosse twisted his body to avoid another thrust, and the heavy candlesticks fell, rolling with a noise like thunder, and falling with a thud to the floor. It was not necessary to appease the wrath of human society; it was necessary only to appease that of God for the broken Commandment. Her brown curls were pulled tight in a severe chignon.

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