Hidden menace; a prescience of something dreadful about to happen. “I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. But if I were dying of thirst, in a desert, I would not accept a cup of water at her hands. It was her figure, her style of dress, her manner of arranging the hair. "If so, I may as well execute my warrant. Do have some tea, won’t you? If you must, go then.
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