She put her clothes back on, 118 lipstick smeared all over her face. Jack instantly started to his feet, and the man, alarmed at his appearance, ran off to a neighbouring house. “All right. ‘Good God! Everett Charvill, as I live. Sheppard's dress—extremely neat and clean, but simply fashioned, and of the plainest and most unpretending material,—offered nothing assailable; and her demeanour was so humble, and her looks so modest, that—if she had been ill-looking—she might, possibly, have escaped the shafts of malice preparing to be levelled against her.
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