‘No more, Saling, no more,’ said Mrs Sindlesham in accents of exhaustion. Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. ‘Who’s this, then? Not soldiers again. ” She stopped buttoning her glove, and looked at him.
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