She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. “So that’s the way it is. No one would ever know what happened to him. I said to myself, ‘this will come.
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