It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. Michelle’s eyes were red and bloodshot. Jack dropped the knife, and walked sullenly aside. Then he hovered undecidedly for some seconds with his hands in his pockets and his mouth puckered to a whistle before he turned to go home by the Avenue. ” “Don’t use such a word, my dear young lady,” Mr.
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