His own heart was too full of melancholy foreboding. ‘You had better kill me, mademoiselle, because otherwise I shall end by strangling you. " Not a little perplexed by the mysterious object she had seen, Rachel left the room, and, shortly afterwards returned with the materials of a tolerably good supper;—to wit, a couple of cold fowls, a tongue, the best part of a sirloin of beef, a jar of pickles, and two small dishes of pastry. Stanley, standing on the hearthrug with his back to the unlit gas-fire. Then his beard was of a reddish hue, and his complexion warm and sanguine.
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