CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. ” She said. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. You must think it over. ‘You wouldn’t know one end of a pistol from the other. But she threw a verbal bombshell into the spinsters' camp. Although she had refused to answer his impertinent questions. Before retracing his steps, however, he allowed his gaze to range over the vast and beautiful prospect spread out beneath him, which is now hidden, from the traveller's view by the high walls of the General Cemetery, and can, consequently, only be commanded from the interior of that attractive place of burial,—and which, before it was intersected by canals and railroads, and portioned out into hippodromes, was exquisite indeed. His clothes had evidently seen some service, and were plentifully begrimed with the dust of the workshop. “Dear husband,” she murmured. The original passage, Martha had told her, had led only from an upstairs room to one downstairs.
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