She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. E. Spurling stood her negro attendant, Caliban; a hideous, misshapen, malicious monster, with broad hunched shoulders, a flat nose, and ears like those of a wild beast, a head too large for his body, and a body too long for his legs. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror.
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