She became aware of the Scotch student regarding her with stupendous amazement, a tea-cup poised in one hairy hand and his faceted glasses showing a various enlargement of segments of his eye. All the sombre visions she had been pressing back, fighting out of her thoughts, swarmed over the barrier and crushed her. He made it impossible not to respond, his arms tightening deliciously around hers. “Take my advice,” he said hoarsely. And I have made such arrangements that at my decease tardy justice will be done my injured nephew. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica.
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