Opening her large black eyes, she fixed them upon him for a moment with a mixture of terror and loathing, and then averted her gaze. Her body was perpetually tanned, despite the approach of winter. Montressor’s guests were. He beamed a little as she disappeared into the orchestra room, a cacophony of tuning instruments. He seemed to possess infinite reserves of patience when she refused him or purposely tried to bait and anger him, but his patience only made him seem more sinister. Here was an instrument which might be of the greatest service to him in accomplishing his design.
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