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138 with distinction, began to grow gayer than ever. "My dear Constance, your hand is very feverish," said Norbourne, approaching his wife; "you are exerting yourself too much: come with me to the next room, it is much cooler there." She thanked him with the deeper colour of pleasure, for one kind word of his made her heart beat its quickest and sweetest time, and they turned to go into the adjoining room. At that moment there was a simultaneous rush towards the spot where a popular singer was commencing a favourite song of the time; Norbourne felt the arm that was in his cling suddenly to him for support, and then relax its hold: he had scarcely time to prevent her sinking on the ground. He caught her up, and bore her to the first window near. The blood was rushing from her nose and mouth—she had broken a blood-vessel!