Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. Peste, where was her handkerchief? She remembered then that it had been lost in the struggle with Gerald. She looked around her. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change.
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