His face was aquiline but sweet, the years had not yet taken the blush from his cheeks and his lips were similarly rubefacient. “But then they would find that check endorsed in his bureau. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. So that it seemed to her the whole world had changed —the very light of it had changed.
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