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. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. She found she was trembling at his nearness and full of a thrilling dread that he might touch her. Smith had never seen anything like it. If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible.
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