This lifeless appearance was heightened by the extreme sharpness of her features—especially the nose and chin,—and by the emaciation of her limbs, which was painfully distinct through her drapery. I might have told you the truth. The old man was conducted to Jack's cell by the turnkey, who remained near him during their interview. At length the task was done, and she jabbed the needle into a cushion, folded the coat, and rose. But his gloom appeared to be occasioned by remorse, rather than sorrow. She knew she was a monster and so did they.
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