Page:The Tragic Muse (London & New York, Macmillan & Co., 1890), Volume 1.djvu/256

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THE TRAGIC MUSE.

her smile, carrying him beside her, carrying him to his doom. He had not supposed that in so few days he had driven about with her so much; but the image of it was there, in his consulted conscience, as well as in a personal glow not yet chilled: it looked large as it rose before him. The things his mother had said to him made a rich enough frame for it, and the whole impression, that night, had kept him much awake.



END OF VOLUME I.






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