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It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. Spurling stood her negro attendant, Caliban; a hideous, misshapen, malicious monster, with broad hunched shoulders, a flat nose, and ears like those of a wild beast, a head too large for his body, and a body too long for his legs. The major’s hand stilled. There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again.
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