He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. Lucy stared like an automaton at Michelle’s unconscious 262 body, revolted at her own actions to the point of shock. There was all the knavery, and more than all the drollery of a Spanish picaroon in the laughing eyes of the English apprentice; and, with a little more warmth and sunniness of skin on the side of the latter, the resemblance between them would have been complete.
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