Sebastian was always a man who felt the need to surround himself with the trappings of the finer life. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. Her hair was of the darkest brown, and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to her heels.
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