He talked in the same style, and pretty nearly in the same language; laughed in the same manner, and coughed, or sneezed at the same time. She saw now that it was not a dissipated face; it was as smooth and unlined as polished marble, which at present it resembled. He could see lust virtually dripping from the dark-haired boy’s maw as she teased every last note from her shuddering violin, the devil in a black skirt. His subconscious sensed the unnaturalness of it and recoiled. The next moment, however, he was picked up, and set upon his feet by a person who, having witnessed the accident, flew across the road to his assistance.
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