Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. ‘Be quiet, man,’ snapped Hilary, watching the Frenchman go by with the lad after him. Blue Ruin will do the job nicely. On that night,—that fatal night,—Winifred crushed all the hopes that were rising in my heart.
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