He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. Her skin prickled. The white haze of poison clouded her eyes. ” Annabel looked at him curiously. You simply can’t. Her figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health; and her complexion—still pale, but without its former sickly cast,—contrasted agreeably, by its extreme fairness, with the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy, had gained infinitely more in the soft and chastened lustre that replaced it.
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