At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. ” He writhed. Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. "It'll ease your mind. There was a tearing sound and the cloth of her habit ripped apart as the smothered point drove through it, missing its intended target. Yet the smoke was curling upwards in a faint innocent-looking cloud to the ceiling. “I don’t believe there is one. “But I am your husband,” he said.
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