"What the devil are you howling about?" cried Langley. They bickered frequently now as Gianfrancesco protested the prices of things like funeral candles and poultices to comfort the dying. But at this point he was still subservient, still outwardly humble, in spite of the blackhearted villainy that was even then burgeoning in his breast. In the retrospect she was amazed to think how things had gone to pieces, for at the outset she had been quite prepared to go home again upon terms. “Everything very nice, I am sure,” Miss Stanley murmured to Capes as he steered her to a place upon the little sofa before the fire. She had viewed them askance, and without exchanging ideas with any one else in the world about them.
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