And after that Alice became remoter than ever, and, after a time, ill. 127 “But Mary Lucia, it isn’t what it looks like! She’s an old friend, there’s nothing serious going on!” Without a word, she about-faced and flew down his steps, running fast, jumping four steps at a time. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. ‘Sapristi,’ he gasped. The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping. Plain, wide-mouthed, freckled, and ugly, she was an instantly jealous creature, her saving grace that she took no pains to mask her extreme dislike 47 of petite, pretty girls.
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