I saw the blood come as he rolled over. "Off!" she cried with a prolonged and piercing shriek. She began to want to lay her head down on his chest but absolutely denied herself. She was already a little prepared by her discursive reading and discussion under the Widgett influence for ideas and “movements,” though temperamentally perhaps she was rather disposed to resist and criticise than embrace them. Annabel shook her head. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition. A cry was then raised by the leaders to attack Wild's house, and the fury of the mob was instantly directed to that quarter. Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself.
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