This one too she read. The dusky obscurity of the room was twice welcome. He reminds me of a slave I once had in Rome with those sullen dark eyes and that wistful pout. She had suddenly become as the jewels of the Madonna, as the idol's eye, infinitely beyond his reach, sacred. She was shaking violently when she entered the side door of the house. This time she feinted as his point came up to deflect her own, and disengaging, passed under and cut at his cheek.
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