A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit. ‘Ah, now I may see what damage Gérard has done to me,’ she muttered, crossing to the table and putting her hand to the sore place at her neck. "I suspect our friend has thought better of it, and won't come," he remarked. This Joan would hold them for a little. During the previous night he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts had raced in an endless circle—action without progress. He became a little less en garde.
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