She had never before heard the noise of firecrackers, and in the beginning the sputtering racket caused her to wince. ‘I thought—I thought I saw my—my husband. That there Frenchie didn’t look any too friendly to me. With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her. He might call her wife, but she refused to give him his wedding night. There was already a score or more of people there, some standing up and talking together, others seated in chairs ranged along the wall.
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