His face was that of a quick, intelligent-looking boy, with fine hazel eyes, and a clear olive complexion. "If I am the devil," observed Wild, "as some folks assert, and I myself am not unwilling to believe, you'll find that I differ from the generally-received notions of the arch-fiend, and faithfully execute the commands of those who confide their souls to my custody. When she slipped off of it her head started to bob, filled with air. And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company. Anna turned round with a start, which was almost of guilt, the poker still in her hand. "What's that to you?" retorted Jack, surlily.
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