Over the sea of heads arose a black and dismal object. During the narration Jack's features lighted up, and an expression, which would have been in vain looked for in repose, was instantly caught and depicted by the skilful artist. I was sorry for what I did afterwards; for, I don't know why, but, poor, lady! with her pale face, and black eyes, she reminded me of my mother. They talked lightly and smoked cigarettes till Anna, with a little laugh, threw open the window and let in the cool night air. The streets were full of colour.
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