Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. ” For a moment Mr. Don’t you think that the shade of my hair is lovely?” “There is nothing particular the matter with the shade,” Anna answered, “but it is not nearly so becoming as before you touched it. It was plain that a man of his age could only be interested for one reason alone, yet she felt compelled to at know him a little before the main event.
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