" As Jack made no reply, the woman proceeded. Listen to me, Winifred. “You are quite right, I think. " "I know where she will be found, and how," rejoined Jack with a shudder. Only she sent me a message, and together we found a cottage for her to stay at. She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared. I don’t want to influence you unduly—But—They’re artistic people, Vee. shouldn’t be friends. Notwithstanding her emaciation, her features still retained something of a pleasing expression, and might have been termed beautiful, had it not been for that repulsive freshness of lip denoting the habitual dram-drinker; a freshness in her case rendered the more shocking from the almost livid hue of the rest of her complexion.
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