A gaunt, powerful man: no feature of his face decided, and yet for all that it had the significance of a countenance hewn out of rock. She set her fingers in the hair and tugged, drawing him to a sitting posture and stooping so that her eyes would be on the level with his when he awoke. "Who is it, Bess?" "How should I know?" replied Edgeworth Bess. “Can you spare me forty pounds?” she said.
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