It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. . The evil in his eyes towards her was explosive. They were in different key, they had a different timbre. She posed herself before her mirror and surveyed herself with gravely thoughtful, gravely critical, and yet admiring eyes. He played variations on this theme for the better part of an hour. They had asked her to come to the first of the two great annual Fadden Dances, the October one, and Ann Veronica had accepted with enthusiasm. " "Depend upon it, Sir. Not enough of them to make a difference. She was obliged to concede that his features were pleasing, his strength and vitality attractive; and there was no denying how well this uniform of a militia suited his figure, which was lean and powerful both. .
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