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then by an

involuntary

tremor，like

a tree

shaken by

the

wind；from

his rigid

arms，more

stony than

the

balustrade

on which

they

leaned，and

the

petrified

smile that

distorted

his

countenance，you

would have

said that

nothing of

claude

frollo was

alive save

his eyes.

the gipsy

girl was

dancing

and

twirling

her

tambourine

on the tip

of her

finger，throwing

it aloft

in the air

while she

danced the

prove l

saraband；agile，airy，joyous，wholly

unconscious

of the

sinister

gaze

falling

directly