She was unusually pale, and her eyes were brilliant. "My portrait!" echoed Jack. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. "Were it not for that, he would indeed be a blessing and a comfort to me. For the love of Heaven, Jack, don't move!—Don't alter a muscle, if you can help it. You are my wife now and you belong to me. Emile looked at her, then down, and clearly caught the bright gleam on the floor.
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