She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. Wood caught hold of Jack's leg, and dragged him off the bench. Once, when he thought he had done so, he smiled an ingratiating smile. It was too good to be true. There was nothing to be learned from her face. Now I require it, only that I may stop this pig from ruining all.
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