This gloom was impossible. Her fingers passed over a cunningly wrought surface of wood, with just the correct amount of protrusion, the precise colours of dyed leather, and cleverly gilded surfaces and neatly painted lettering. The man looked hard at him. Even so much allusion as this to that family shadow, she felt, was an immense recognition of her ripening years. “I would give my life for you. It was like pouring a strong acid over dulled metal.
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