Spurling in alarm. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. He grabbed her hair viciously and whispered loudly into her tear-streaked face. Meanwhile, the mob outside had prodigiously increased, and had begun to exhibit some disposition to riot. A little table covered with a damask cloth was dragged out. To-night there seemed to be a new brilliancy in her eyes, a deeper quality in her tone. Chapter XVI THE DISCOMFITURE OF SIR JOHN Sir John looked from one to the other of the two sisters.
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