“Come on in, Michelle. ” She had not, she reflected, remembered how prominent his eyes were. She was practically destitute of jewellery. Coldly she spoke, in a distinctly accented voice. ” “Is it very beautiful?” “When I saw it there it was very beautiful. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand.
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