” He stood before her, his hat in his hand, his head bent, his voice lowered to a convenient pitch. She surveyed accommodation that seemed at first merely austere, and became more and more manifestly inadequate as the moments fled by. You would be alarmed of how sulphurous it is, how sickeningly sweet. There was the world besides, looming darker and larger. Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was a "goodly portly man, and a corpulent," whose fair round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for good liquor and good living. ‘Oh, you are making a game with me. She gave her lips to his without resistance.
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