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
