“I was hoping to be able to secure a few minutes’ conversation with you, Miss Pellissier. I am Lucilla Froxfield, you must know. A chill ran through his frame, and, grasping the heavy weapon with which chance had provided him, prepared to strike down the first person who should enter the cell. “I am already so hungry that I shall begin on the petit pains. But this might be merely a figurative mode of describing his customary vigilance. The necessity which had previously existed of leaving the ghastly evidence of the murderous deed undisturbed,—the presence of the mangled corpse,—the bustle of the inquest, at which her attendance was required,—all these circumstances produced a harrowing effect upon the young girl's imagination. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse.
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