redemption had

Christian tottered on his feet and turned so pale that the servant regarded him with anxiety. For a minute or two he stared vacantly into the gloomy hall; then, without a word, he turned abruptly and walked away.Unco nscious of the intervening distance, he found himself at home, in his library. The parlour-maid was asking him whether he would have luncheon. Scarcely the question, he muttered a refusal and sat down.

 

So, it had come at last. Constance was a widow. In a year or so she might think of marrying again.He remained in the library for three or four hours. At first incapable of rejoicing, then ashamed to do so, he at length su  ffered from such a throbbing of the heart that apprehension of illness recalled him to a normal state of mind. The favourite decanter