The wedding procession passed on, and the cynical rabble poured in behind. 192 Her skirt had ridden almost to her hips. But never had the hand touched her with a father's caress; never had he taken her into his arms; never had he kissed her. Amid this portentous hush, the report of a pistol reached the carpenter's ears; and, raising his head at the sound, he beheld a sight which filled him with fresh apprehensions. "The poor things!" The manager laughed. She descended the stairs, and found herself at last in the street—alone. Miss Mary being his only child ’an all, he were in a right pelter.
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