And it's uncanny. Instead her point disengaged, dropped, and then the sword came up again and banged, flatbladed, onto Gosse’s wrist with such force that his own blade dropped from his grasp. The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. What a frightened fool he was! If he could not remember her name, it was equally possible that already she had forgotten his. Winifred listened to his narration with the profoundest attention; and, when it concluded, her tearful eye and throbbing bosom told how deeply her feelings had been interested.
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