A cool gray light illuminated small portions of the stone floor. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. "I am coming to the point, Joan. Give way, and let us render what assistance we can to the poor wretch. “John, of course I forgive you if it is what you need from me. We shall both, I hope, live to enjoy our shares—long after Thames Darrell is forgotten—ha! ha! A third of your estate I accept. Say I’m out, away, anything!” “I am sorry, sir,” the man answered, “but she had sent away her hansom before I answered the bell. ‘Me and the butler didn’t see eye to eye. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers.
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