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But she felt his lax figure become rigid. "You depart for Lancashire to-morrow. What sort of a standard of life yours may be I do not know, yet in your heart you know very well that every word you have spoken to me has been a veiled insult, every time you have come into my presence has been an outrage. ” She laughed gaily—and she had a way when she laughed of throwing back her head and showing her beautiful white teeth, so that mirth from her was a thing very much to be desired. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. It was hard to associate her with the stories which he and all Paris had heard of “Alcide. Old and dilapidated, the widow's domicile looked the very picture of desolation and misery.
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