’ Gerald drew his breath in sharply as Lord Charvill took a step towards his granddaughter, thrusting out his head. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. You might trust me with the Chevalier himself,—I'd never betray him. Here and there, patches of flesh adhered to the bones, and the dank dripping hair hanging about what had once been the face, gave it a ghastly appearance.
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