Bit priggish, isn’t it? And if he only knew it—so absurd. It pained Lucy to see Mike eating so sparely. Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. At last he could bear it no longer. Michelle shrugged her off. The carpenter well knew from the obstacle which had interfered with his own progress, that the unknown could not have passed through the same lock as himself.
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