His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him. and miscarried. His countenance was almost as white and rigid as that of the corpse by his side. He had been very easy or she had been very lucky. He looked at her for a moment in a puzzled sort of way. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. 255 “You have a very talented son,” was her opening line.
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