’ Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald spoke of them. " "It was Blueskin," observed Jack. "You show more consideration to the feelings of a hempen widow, than there is any need to show. In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought. So appalling was the sight, that even the murderers—familiar as they were with scenes of slaughter,—looked aghast at it. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume.
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