She held out the foil. I was sorry for what I did afterwards; for, I don't know why, but, poor, lady! with her pale face, and black eyes, she reminded me of my mother. Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. Then his beard was of a reddish hue, and his complexion warm and sanguine. ‘Tell me, my boy.
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