” “But, my dear Peter!” said Miss Stanley. 176 “No, it’s very good. "My portrait!" echoed Jack. ’ ‘A dagger, is it then?’ The girl froze. Their faces were masks of abject horror, sunken and shriveled, their cheekbones protruding. He seemed safe from the sickness, having been surrounded by the dying, he had witnessed the carnage up close and yet his health still prevailed.
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