At any rate, it would be good to hear him saying the sort of things he did—perhaps now she would grasp them better—with this world-shaking secret brandishing itself about inside her head within a yard of him. Notwithstanding her emaciation, her features still retained something of a pleasing expression, and might have been termed beautiful, had it not been for that repulsive freshness of lip denoting the habitual dram-drinker; a freshness in her case rendered the more shocking from the almost livid hue of the rest of her complexion. But Gerald kept to a casual note. He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience. For a moment she remained silent. . ‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously. This lifeless appearance was heightened by the extreme sharpness of her features—especially the nose and chin,—and by the emaciation of her limbs, which was painfully distinct through her drapery. It was a beautiful place that she had found, a round cave by a small stream. “Do you need me to tell you? You have tasted the luxury of power. Between herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God could give—love.
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