She was posing before the mirror, critically, miserably, defensively, and perhaps bewilderedly. The clouds were nearly black with rain, threatening to spill sleet in daggers and torrents. Last time I left home I felt as hard as nails. " "A short man, isn't he, about your height, Sir,—with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's?" "Hem!" replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; "the description's not amiss. "No; we never had one; at least, I never saw it.
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