White and Miss Ellicot laid each a hand upon his arm, one on either side. She was suddenly grave. She wanted to return his gaze but focused intently on a spot next to and above the brick fireplace, as her music teachers had always taught her to do instead of looking directly at the audience. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. The door closed softly upon her. The events that had initially followed in the wake of her triumph over Emile Gosse had quite confused and dazed her. "Do you think I'd part with the sweetest morsel of revenge on those terms? No! But I'll have the secret out of you by other means. . His tone was rough, almost threatening.
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