His gaze remained steady on the old dame’s face, as he thought about it. "They imagine their work is done. She was no longer there. I bear the marks of some of them about me still," he continued, taking off his wig, and laying bare a bald skull, covered with cicatrices and plates of silver. That same adventurousness that had already buoyed her through crises that would have overwhelmed any normally feminine girl with shame and horror now became uppermost again.
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