" "Keep in your own room, at all events," rejoined Kneebone. She had fallen into it naturally, the only expression of the dance she had ever seen or known, and that a stolen sweet. You have a daughter, no? Madame Ibstock, I think. Remember ——” Annabel clutched her sister’s arm. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. "But I dread the effect your departure may have upon your poor mother. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated.
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