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. Sheppard's weight had destroyed the equilibrium of the plank: it swerved, and slowly descended. They’re just a joyous softening of the outline—more beautiful than perfection. But in his presence a wall of diffidence and timidity encompassed her.
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