" And he proceeded to unfold his scheme to the woollen-draper. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. I feel like a fraudulent trustee. "Thank you, sir," said Spurlock, holding out his hand. There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again. She will cry for days and nights together.
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