The lady murmured briefly to her husband, and then tucked her hand into Alderley’s arm. “Miserable bounder,” he murmured. Spurlock relaxed, suddenly, and sank deeply into his pillows. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. Soldiers were stationed at different points of the street to keep off the mob, and others were riding backwards and forwards to maintain an open space for the passage of the procession.
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