Don’t take revenge on him because I’ve wronged you. ’ She raised the pistol. . . Her thought spoke aloud. She never knew what became of her farmer after that. “What else can happen?” asked Miss Miniver, with a little weak gesture at the glow. He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed. As soon as he was gone, the two women divested themselves of their hoods and cloaks, and threw them, as if inadvertently, into the farthest part of the angle in the wall.
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