They were only passers-by. All emotions laid hold of him, but none could he stay long enough to analyze it. On a small shelf near the foot of the bed stood a couple of empty phials, a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jug without a handle, a small tin coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer of rouge, a fragment of looking-glass, and a flask, labelled "Rosa Solis. He met her eyes with his fiery black gaze.
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