The tired woman looked up in inquiring silence at Ann Veronica’s diffident entry. ‘And take you this sword. "Ja," answered Van; "at a minut's nodish. ‘I don’t want no gold! Not for serving my mistress. Will you?” She thought, and it seemed to him she had never looked so self-disciplined and deliberate and beautiful. His voice had broken. She was keenly resolved to do well in the school examination, and not to be drowned in the seas of emotion that threatened to submerge her intellectual being.
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