"I've done no more than my duty, Mrs. It can wait a bit longer. Look out, it’s coming. He crawled underneath the covers with her. It was an awful moment—so awful, that every other feeling except deep interest in the scene seemed suspended. There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau. You make a game with me, imbecile. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom.
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