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She was retuning, fifths spilling from the sliver of light underneath the door like milk. I've already told you I'm about to take a long journey, and it's more than probable I shall never return. Everything was blurred. In between naps she increasingly found herself gazing at him, his large nose, his eyes circled in silvery plum shadows, his thin lips parted as he slept baring a rim of perfect teeth. “I knew,” she said, in a low despairing tone, “that people would talk. Coarse as were the ruffian's notions of feminine beauty, he could not be insensible to the surpassing loveliness of the fair creature, who had thus solicited his attention. "But you've done well to trust me.
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