“Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. What of madame, his wife?’ ‘You know more of her than me,’ the girl said with a look of scorn. " CHAPTER XIV. " The doctor hesitated, puffing his tobacco hastily. It was a large, littered, self-forgetful apartment, decorated with unframed charcoal sketches by various incipient masters; and an open bookcase, surmounted by plaster casts and the half of a human skull, displayed an odd miscellany of books—Shaw and Swinburne, Tom Jones, Fabian Essays, Pope and Dumas, cheek by jowl. He's as generous as he's frolicsome. When he was up and about, the idea of flight would return. Was this the result of some strange experiment? It was the person of Annabel Pellissier—the soul of a very different order of being.
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