She tossed her head, and, having no further words, moved toward the door. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait. One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear. “No,” said Ann Veronica, “but I want to know. ‘What mischief?’ ‘I don’t know, but I’ll go bail you’re at something. It was a moment of breathless interest to all engaged in the attempt.
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