Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for. Drawing a pistol, and unclosing his lantern with the quickness of thought, he then burst through an open trap-door into a small loft. The feeling of last days grew stronger with her as their number diminished. “I know that our social order is dreadful enough,” he said, “and sacrifices all that is best and most beautiful in life. "But it won't do.
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