I suppose because it IS the chief thing in life. His smile faded. Hartford had a very respectable sound. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. "He's a base, deceitful, tyrannical, hoary-headed libertine—that's what he is. Petite build, like herself. Something draws everybody. She made noises between weeping and laughter as she went.
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