Anna raised her eyes. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. “You are not boring me,” she said, “but I would rather talk of something else. It was Annabel who spoke. " And, with a few magical touches, he stamped the fleeting expression on the canvass. ” “All the more reason why she shouldn’t get herself talked about. “May I ask whether you are staying with friends in town?” he inquired deferentially. One keeps rules in order to be one’s self.
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