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. “But perhaps I want to confess them. It plucked shingles from the school building, threatening to shake them all loose one by one like rotting teeth. ” “We’ve both fallen on our feet! We’re the rarest of mortals! The real thing! There’s not a compromise nor a sham nor a concession between us. “Agreed,” he said with queer exaltation, and his grip tightened on her hand.
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