Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much. You have to come over to my house.
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