CHAPTER XXXII. I thank God for the beauty you love and the faults you love. ‘Espèce de bête,’ she snarled. They're on the forward lounge in the saloon. "Yes; he'll suspect nothing. Hers was beauty on a large scale no doubt; but it was beauty, nevertheless: and the carpenter thought her eyes as bright, her complexion as blooming, and her figure (if a little more buxom) quite as captivating as when he led her to the altar some twenty years ago.
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