“We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. In fact, the whole face had undergone a transformation. He sees men all defiled by coarse thoughts, coarse ways of living cruelties. ’ ‘I dare say you do,’ said the general, grim satisfaction overtaking his anger as his prophesy proved accurate. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. He renewed his supplications to Sharples, but with no better success than heretofore; and the greater part of the night was passed by him and the poor widow, whose anxiety, if possible, exceeded his own, in the most miserable state imaginable. "The key," replied the widow. Turning, she heaved at the bottom door and slammed it in his face just as he came leaping forward to grab her.
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