“Are you serious?” “You know very well that I should never joke on such a subject. The door closed upon her, and he moved reluctantly away. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. He's worth a dozen of you. Why? What is she to you?” “I was there by accident,” Ennison answered.
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