She fought the inclination for a while, then surrendered. He looked at it eagerly, but made no movement to take it. Her figure was perfect,—tall, graceful, rounded,—and, then, she had deep liquid blue eyes, that rivalled the stars in lustre. ’ She saw the weapon wrenched from Emile’s hand and he dropped to the bench of the pew and sat there, grasping helplessly at the welling blood on his arm. It was astonishing how often this picture returned: cold rosy apples and flurries of snow. His chest heaved violently, and big tears coursed rapidly down his cheeks.
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