’ She saw the weapon wrenched from Emile’s hand and he dropped to the bench of the pew and sat there, grasping helplessly at the welling blood on his arm. He found himself thinking up all the psychology which he had ever read. There were groves of cultivated guava, orange, lemon, and pomegranate. It was an awful moment—so awful, that every other feeling except deep interest in the scene seemed suspended.
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