There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them. Still, something had marked the face, something had left an indelible touch. ” “Call it what you like,” Anna answered. Wood in the deepest mourning. "What's that?" demanded McClintock. Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously. I need scarcely ask whether you've executed your appointed task, my dear? You're never behindhand.
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