By this time, she had so far succeeded in calming herself, that she answered the greetings of the neighbours whom she encountered on her way to the sacred edifice—if sorrowfully, still composedly. She visualized him as in a policeman’s uniform and quite impassive. The bridge was open. Then she passed from the room on the arm of General Lord Charvill, chatting animatedly to him. She began to miss him when he was gone during the day and cherish the quiet times he spent only with her. Stopping before each door, they took up the plates of the locks, examined the ponderous bolts, and were struck with the utmost astonishment at what they beheld. He had bled everywhere, but she had struck when the opportunity was ripe.
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