She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. I speak frankly, because you also know that no possible extremity would induce me to accept help from any living person. “I am bored,” she said abruptly. The world is like a peppery horse. “Thank you, ma’am.
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