He grunted a little with effort, and she realised the gilt frame must be heavy. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. . You have somewhere to go to in London, I hope. A creeping numbness invaded her. She had black hair, fine eyebrows, and a clear complexion; and the forces that had modelled her features had loved and lingered at their work and made them subtle and fine. Then I tucked it nice and snug under the saddle-bag.
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