Jack's mouth was coarse and large; Darrell's small and exquisitely carved, with the short, proud upper lip, which belongs to the highest order of beauty. Nothing else was put in their place, and they remained sotto voce, as it were, in his mind. “It’s a way of avoiding explanations. Do you recall the night she showed you the face in the locket? Do you remember how she said—'If only my mother had lived'? Did you ever see anything more tender or beautiful?" "I remember. You will find the certificate in my pocket. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face.
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