Here and there, patches of flesh adhered to the bones, and the dank dripping hair hanging about what had once been the face, gave it a ghastly appearance. She was practically an outcast, she had not even the ghost of a plan as to her future, and she had something less than five pounds in her pocket. She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. She attacked me with a carving-knife, and, when I had disarmed her, the jade bit off a couple of fingers from my left hand. The air was pungent and leaden. She distinctly shivered as he forced her to look at him.
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