Even her memories of he who had frequented her life for the longest period of years were worn and fading. Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. There was no other door in it, and Jack therefore struck into another entry which branched off to the right.
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