He was always word-building, a metaphorist, lavish with singing adjectives; but often he built in confusion because it was difficult to describe something beautiful in a new yet simple way. He seldom spoke, and drank with a persistence that was sinister. But she could see that Diane watched her more closely now, and in a cat-like way. His eyes were bright, and his voice had in it an unaccustomed timbre. She laughed. ’ She raised the pistol. She could not say a word, much less move. She hadn't meant to ask anything for herself. He only laughed his defiance. With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. “It seems to me it comes to earning one’s living in the long run,” said Ann Veronica, coloring faintly.
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