Poor girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. but then I made the mistake of testing it indoors. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. It was Martin, she could hear his heart beat. ‘There is no one who could have told him this. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her. ” “But it changes things.
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