ToC About an hour after the occurrences at Newgate, the door of the small backparlour already described at Dollis Hill was opened by Winifred, who, gliding noiselessly across the room, approached a couch, on which was extended a sleeping female, and, gazing anxiously at her pale careworn countenance, murmured,—"Heaven be praised! she still slumbers—slumbers peacefully. She had imagined she had drowned them altogether. So it does. ” Her reverie broke, and she found herself still in front of the looking glass, a barrette hanging loosely from her hair. When she came to school on Friday, she almost tripped twice going up the stairs. In a momentary fury she seized and tore in pieces the study which remained upon the easel. Forgetting her occupation in her anger, she left off bathing Darrell's wrist; and, squeezing his arm so tightly that the boy winced with pain, she clapped her right hand upon her hip, and turned, with flashing eyes and an inflamed countenance, towards her crest-fallen spouse. "And me," added Mrs. “The doctor has asked me to give them my reasons—for shooting myself. The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished. It had been intensified and corrupted by time, as if to add insult to injury.
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