Courtlaw, who was sitting by the bedside, bent over him. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. He took her there on the cold, dirty floor, his nails digging into her back, his teeth sinking into her breasts. The eyes, too, though large and bright, and shaded by long lashes, seemed to betoken, as hazel eyes generally do in men, a faithless and uncertain disposition.
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