"Do not shed more blood," cried the carpenter. Glancing towards him she saw that a shadow had fallen upon his face. The girl was flushed with excitement, bright-eyed, and braced for a struggle; her aunt had never seen her looking so fine or so pretty. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground. Not conceiving that his sister—feeble as she was, and yielding as she had ever shown herself to his wishes, whether expressed or implied—would depart without consulting him, he was equally surprised and enraged to hear the servants busied in transporting her to the carriage. She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones. He paused at the bamboo curtain of her room, which was in semi-darkness. The slight smile that played upon Winifred's lips seemed to say that she was not quite so sure.
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