She turned to Lucilla, a plea in her face. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. “I came directly I was disengaged,” Anna answered. His face was that of a quick, intelligent-looking boy, with fine hazel eyes, and a clear olive complexion.
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