Concealed among the trees that edged the estate grounds, the watchers paused. Her attenuated arms were crossed upon her breast; and her black brows and eyelashes contrasted fearfully with the livid whiteness of her skin. The slight smile that played upon Winifred's lips seemed to say that she was not quite so sure. Horrible details recurred to her. “Dear husband,” she murmured. "Won't you be persuaded, Joan?" he added, making a similar offer to Mrs. “Perhaps for me,” she added, with a sudden wistful look out of the bare high window, “a night of beginnings.
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