Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head. She thought of her aunt and that purse that was dropped on the table, and of many troublesome and ill-requited kindnesses; she thought of the help of the Widgetts, of Teddy’s admiration; she thought, with a new-born charity, of her father, of Manning’s conscientious unselfishness, of Miss Miniver’s devotion. Yet he’s been here for six years, and he’s as much a fixture as that sham mahogany sideboard. "Is your person in danger?" "Not from my creditors," replied Wood, significantly.
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