Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. His tone was rough, almost threatening. . “Holy shit!” Giggling and snickering was amplified by asbestos tiles and reverberated by metal desks. Your life is like a funeral March. His salary was a few paltry hundreds a year. Sheppard, distractedly.
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