With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. Swinging her arm in an arc, she let go of the foil and it flew across the chapel towards the main door, crashing down between the pews, and clattering onto the floor. "Your hesitation convinces me he does," replied the widow. During the foregoing occurrences a dead calm prevailed. He was waiting in the outer hall as she tiptoed in.
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