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The evil in his eyes towards her was explosive. The man who staggers, whose face is flushed, whose attitude is either noisily friendly or truculent, has some chance; liquor bends him eventually. What happened? Did you turn me?” “Yes, my love. In the genuinely dissipated face there was always a suggestion of slyness in ambush, peeping out of the wrinkles around the eyes and the lips. Her heart in her mouth, she heard his foot scrape on the floorboard and knew from his expression that Gosse had heard it too. To her consternation, the sound drew her great-aunt’s attention and she threw out a hand.
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