His face was that of a quick, intelligent-looking boy, with fine hazel eyes, and a clear olive complexion. That was the wonder of these stories; one lived in them. He glanced at Miss Klegg again, and spoke quickly and furtively, with eager eyes on Ann Veronica’s face. “Shot through the lungs,” he remarked. She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. Then I think I remarked that science was disgracefully under-endowed, and confessed I’d had to take to more profitable courses.
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