“Have you any money?” “Lots,” Anna answered laconically. It was open. Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. The delay was only momentary. He thought rationally; that is to say, he thought clearly, as a child thinks clearly. I am one of those people who are interested in women, more interested than I am in anything else. ToC Sir Rowland, meantime, paced his chamber with a quick and agitated step. Very well. His clothes were smartly pressed, his linen white, his jaws cleanly shaven; but the day would come when he would grow indifferent to bodily cleanliness. “One has to be so careful of one’s friends and acquaintances,” he remarked, by way of transition.
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