" "That likeness is the chief cause of my misery," replied the widow, shuddering. Taken altogether, his physiognomy resembled one of those vagabond heads which Murillo delighted to paint, and for which Guzman d'Alfarache, Lazarillo de Tormes, or Estevanillo Gonzalez might have sat:—faces that almost make one in love with roguery, they seem so full of vivacity and enjoyment. Understand once and for all that that answer is final. The wish was vain: and, endeavouring to banish every earthly thought, he addressed himself deeply and sincerely to prayer. Its very calmness was frightful. The night was clear and moonlit, dazzling with even light blue shadows that shone into manicured lawns and pristine gardens. “I think they do.
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