She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. The thief-taker's throat was bound up with thick folds of linen, and his face had a ghastly and cadaverous look, which communicated an undefinable and horrible expression to his glances. “It is like old times,” she said, “to hear these home truths. “You know very well that she is selfish and pleasure-loving to the backbone.
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