Sheppard heaved a deep sigh, and opened her eyes, which now looked larger, blacker, and more melancholy than ever. She used to play violin, you know. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger. "With your friends, dear Mrs. He breathed heavily, as though he had been running. And she buried herself beneath the straw, which she tossed above her head with the wildest gestures. She was with these movements—akin to them, she felt it at times intensely—and yet something eluded her. Gosse would have killed me, and perhaps in the fight I might kill him. Leave the rest to me.
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