Even in her own sorry skin-and-bones state of wraithlike pallor and gray under eye circles she was drawing unwanted attention from would-be admirers. " Carefully depositing Winifred on a sofa, Jack then extinguished the light, and, as he unfastened the door, crept behind it. Then a handkerchief was thrown over the cage, to prevent the bird from singing; it was her favourite canary. I felt—I felt living in a masked world. It seemed an emblem of the ruin he had caused. “Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech. It was the gallows.
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