Part 7 That was two days before Christmas Eve. He reminds me of a slave I once had in Rome with those sullen dark eyes and that wistful pout. “We were bound to do this when you kissed me,” she sobbed through her tears. D. He had the same dark eyes, though lighted by a fierce flame; the same sallow complexion; the same tall, thin figure, and majestic demeanour; the same proud cast of features. I want him as my friend.
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