’ ‘Comment? You wish to murder me?’ ‘No, I wish to beat you,’ he retorted. She saw now that it was not a dissipated face; it was as smooth and unlined as polished marble, which at present it resembled. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. He looked at her reproachfully. "But you've done well to trust me.
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