At last she was roused. The prisoner breathed with difficulty. She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening. Jackson had one of the ugliest countenances imaginable, he had a very fine set of teeth. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. Her aunt had a once exasperating habit of interrupting her work with demands for small household services, but now Ann Veronica rendered them with a queer readiness of anticipatory propitiation.
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