She turned away from the doorway of the silk loom to observe. ‘This is not love, Marthe. We’ll go. A conviction that her sister’s words were true had from the first possessed her. . The moment she entered the room and he rose, she felt that she was immediately consigned to the circle of strangers; and it emptied her heart of its joy and filled it with diffidence. There was something which chilled even him in the cold impassivity of her features. It seemed older than Rome, and the stone covering it gave resistance. “I don’t mind, of course, your seeing her sometimes, still there are differences— differences in social atmospheres. The knowledge breathed into her heart a satisfying warmth. Immediately he grasped the fact that there was drama here, probably the old drama of the fugitive. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. "They say her son's taken at last, and is to be hanged.
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