” “It’s very kind of you—” began Ann Veronica. But that possibility had been anticipated. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. The heavy weapon thundered against the door; and it speedily yielded to their efforts. There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames. ’ ‘Charvill, then,’ Gerald concluded, unperturbed. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. ‘She would say, espéce de diable, this Melusine.
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