Don’t you think that the shade of my hair is lovely?” “There is nothing particular the matter with the shade,” Anna answered, “but it is not nearly so becoming as before you touched it. " "Pity!" shrieked the widow. "Drink your peg; don't bother about me. . . She did not think for one moment what interpretation he might put upon the word “lover. It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger.
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