But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. His mind was busy with a résumé of yesterday's unusual events. Spurling, who had been hastily compounding another bowl of punch. His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white. \" Lucy replied sardonically. He was evidently nervous, and very anxious to be impressive; his projecting eyes sought to dominate. It’s the feinting tricks you have to watch for. Who was he to tread on her dreams? She had heroworshipped an unscrupulous adventurer, who had not hesitated to impose on her youth and her ignorance.
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