It was a face that matched her body, so pure and beautiful that any man would have killed for her. Running to Gosse, she seized the portrait from his hand and lashed out, taking him off guard, so that he staggered back and fell against the card table. “Don’t you have a wife? Where are your children?” She asked. “It may be her salvation. Just as the clergyman approached the altar, she perceived a boy steal quickly into the church, and ensconce himself behind the woollen-draper, who, in order to carry on his amatory pursuits with greater convenience, and at the same time display his figure (of which he was not a little vain) to the utmost advantage, preferred a standing to a sitting posture. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire.
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