She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. ’ ‘Listen. He lost control of the machine. In a few minutes after the delivery of this note he will be in Newgate. And I heard ‘Alcide’ sing, and that little dance she did. And, as he quitted the room, the poor widow fell with her face upon the floor. She had denied it with vigor, and here she was! She did not so much exhaust this general question as pass from it to her insoluble individual problem again: “What am I to do?” She wanted first of all to fling the forty pounds back into Ramage’s face.
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