She watched them dwindle with strange thoughts: her eyes fixed upon the scene, her mind still glancing right and left on the overthrow of her life and hopes.

There was no one left in whom she might confide; none whose hand was friendly, or on whom she dared to reckon for the barest loyalty.

With the fall of Gondremark, her party, her brief popularity, had fallen.

So she sat crouched upon the window-seat, her brow to the cool pane; her dress in tatters, barely shielding her; her mind revolving bitter thoughts.
Meanwhile, consequences were fast mounting; and in the deceptive quiet of the night, downfall and red revolt were brewing.

The litter had passed forth between the iron gates and entered on the streets of the town.