” “Nor I. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. The cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little world fell away from him. I’m sick of this town and I can’t wait to get out. “Your little flag of pride must flutter down with the rest of them, Ann Veronica. As he pocketed it, her open palm reached out and slapped his cheek. Her figure was perfect,—tall, graceful, rounded,—and, then, she had deep liquid blue eyes, that rivalled the stars in lustre. ” “You are foolish,” she declared, with a note of irritability in her tone.
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