As the meaning of this speech
smote on Mrs. Horace Hignett's understanding, she sank weeping into a
chair. The ever-present fear that had haunted her had been exorcised.
Windles was hers in perpetuity. The relief was too great. She sat in
her chair and gulped: and Eustace, greatly encouraged, emerged slowly
from the bedclothes like a worm after a thunderstorm.
How long this poignant scene would have lasted, one cannot say. It is a
pity that it was cut short, for I should have liked to dwell upon it.
But at this moment, from the regions downstairs, there suddenly burst
upon the silent night such a whirlwind of sound as effectually
dissipated the tense emotion in the room. Somebody had touched off the
orchestrion in the drawing-room, and that willing instrument had begun
again in the middle of a bar at the point where it had been switched
off. Its wailing lament for the passing of Summer filled the whole
house.
"That's too bad!" said Jane, a little annoyed. "At this time of night!"
"It's the burglars!" quavered Mrs.
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