His grey eyes burned under his shaggy eyebrows. ” The figure of her aunt, a little distant, a little propitiatory, behind the coffee things, filled her with a sense of almost catastrophic adventure. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint smile across the table at him, “is here. He was made welcome as McClintock's agent; but he politely declined all the proffered courtesies. Perhaps the sunken cheeks and the protruding cheekbones gave her this impression.
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