"I want to speak to Edgeworth Bess myself. It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. She was quivering with the sense of Capes at her side and glowing with heroic love; it seemed to her that if they put their hands jointly against the Alps and pushed they would be able to push them aside. On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. There was a pause, while the steel grey eyes sliced at her.
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