’ Then I kicked him until he was black and blue. I will remember them, Sebastian, along with my mother and father, and all the others I came to love and lose. ’ He reddened a little, and shuffled his feet. Taken altogether, his physiognomy resembled one of those vagabond heads which Murillo delighted to paint, and for which Guzman d'Alfarache, Lazarillo de Tormes, or Estevanillo Gonzalez might have sat:—faces that almost make one in love with roguery, they seem so full of vivacity and enjoyment.
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