The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. Sebastian rose from the tomb. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. "I shall be obliged to hang him to keep him company. Nor Jacques.
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