She dropped beside the chair, sat cross-legged, and laughed at the futile jade-coloured wall. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. A chill ran through his frame, and, grasping the heavy weapon with which chance had provided him, prepared to strike down the first person who should enter the cell. He was ruffled, and his ears were red, no doubt from some adjacent controversy. He would pursue that little pastime on some other occasion.
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