There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. ” His face darkened. And this is not France, you understand. Shamefaced curiosities began to come back into her mind, thinly disguised as literature and art. The shape of the head, the height and breadth of the brow, the angle of the nose, the cut of the chin and jaws, all were fine, of a type she had never before looked upon closely. . I’ve got no feminine class feeling.
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