"Very well," said Rachel, with a toss of her pretty head, "very well. Figg," said Jack. "If you thought that, why did you give me this job?"—his voice faint and thick. 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. I intend to remain very serious indeed while I’m doing it. If I did not love you en désespoir, I would assuredly blow off your head.
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