“I wonder,” he said, and went off at a tangent. "Heaven be praised she knows me at last. “I heard the clock strike as I crossed the square,” she answered. He suddenly became eloquent and plausible. So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. What was yet more worthy of note was, that the widow's countenance had an air of refinement about it, of which it was utterly destitute before, and which seemed to intimate that her true position in society was far above that wherein accident had placed her. That is the dreadful truth.
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