Her voice seemed to come from a long way off. She began to exercise those lures which were bred in her bone—the bones of all women. After a brief conversation, which Sheppard sustained with his accustomed liveliness, the old man turned to Bess and addressed a few words of common-place gallantry to her. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. Wait!" He released himself from his aunt's embrace, ran to the trunk and fetched the old coat. In between naps she increasingly found herself gazing at him, his large nose, his eyes circled in silvery plum shadows, his thin lips parted as he slept baring a rim of perfect teeth. That’s— that’s my private life.
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