The Old Mint. " "'No doubt,'" said Wood, who had again turned over the leaves of the sacred volume—', "no doubt this man is a murderer, whom, though he escaped the seas, yet vengeance suffereth not to live'. What was yet more worthy of note was, that the widow's countenance had an air of refinement about it, of which it was utterly destitute before, and which seemed to intimate that her true position in society was far above that wherein accident had placed her. She passed down the stairs and into the street. You don’t understand, Lucy, they just aren’t like that. An ugly flush stained his cheeks. But I don’t think she lays hold of one so. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. But always this new phase in life which civilization called convention threw up barrier after barrier.
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