His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended. He was at length rescued from his assailants,— rescued to perish, seven months afterwards, with every ignominy, at the very gibbet to which he had brought his victim. She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. It was his heart.
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