" At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand. In the chapel she sang with an open-lunged gusto that silenced Ann Veronica altogether, and in the exercising-yard slouched round with carelessly dispersed feet. "Aliva, your child perished with its father. She remained for some seconds crouching at the fender, poker in hand. “And by what right do you do anything of the sort?” “No right at all,” he admitted.
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