"How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone. ‘Naturally I had to come,’ confirmed the lively blonde, her eyes twinkling up at Alderley. Get a license—just an idea of mine. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. You only mean a secret for a little time?” “Just for a little time,” she said; “yes.
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