“TROUSERS!” she whispered. What was yet more worthy of note was, that the widow's countenance had an air of refinement about it, of which it was utterly destitute before, and which seemed to intimate that her true position in society was far above that wherein accident had placed her. Annabel watched her with wide-open, terrified eyes. 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. "'Odd's-my-life! what's this?" exclaimed the carpenter, looking at the superscription of one of them.
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