She had other boyfriends and hung out at Foster’s only bar most of the time. She was reasonably certain why. She smiled encouragingly, laying aside her plate and turning her chair from the table. 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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