His kind eyes were puffy with fatigue. " "How had he offended you?" inquired the widow. ’ ‘Will you have done, Gerald?’ demanded Hilary, exasperated. Anna was suddenly very quiet. "Jack," exclaimed the widow, starting up and drawing back the curtain. Our land brings us in nothing. He too looked at the girl, slackened his pace and looked at her again through his eye-glasses, looked over his shoulder after he had passed, and finally came to a dead stop. Taken altogether, his physiognomy resembled one of those vagabond heads which Murillo delighted to paint, and for which Guzman d'Alfarache, Lazarillo de Tormes, or Estevanillo Gonzalez might have sat:—faces that almost make one in love with roguery, they seem so full of vivacity and enjoyment.
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