I never even burrowed down into the trunk. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. “My only answer would be to ask you to look at that mirror and then at the poster. There are human limitations, and no doubt you reached yours. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul.
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