“It is too late for visitors,” she remarked. Then making a pretence of stooping to rearrange her flowing train, she glanced at Anna, and half stopped in her progress down the room. She was flushed, and her eyes were bright and angry; her breath came sobbing, and her hair was all abroad in wandering strands of black. "Mr. I want to know more about her. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice.
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