Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct. She closed her eyes, discerning the divinations he had been up to during her violin concert. Jack Sheppard is a match for Jonathan Wild, any day. Its heroes never had daughters, they borrowed other people’s. She had been fighting down this thought for days: that Hoddy did not care, that he did not love her, that he had mistaken a vagary of the mind for a substance, and now regretted what he had done— married a girl who was not his equal in anything. The doctor expected her to seize upon the subtle inference that there was something furtive, even criminal, in the manner the patient set this obligation upon humanity at large, to look after him in the event of his death. There was a moment’s breathless and disappointed silence.
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