Anna was not “Alcide” of the “Ambassador’s,” whose subtly demure smile and piquant glances had called him to her side from the moment of their first meeting. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. “I suppose there’s no way of getting a decent income—independently. "Bess wouldn't bear a rival. “You’re—I don’t know,” said Ann Veronica. The worst was over now. She doesn't love you; she hasn't the least idea what it means beyond what she has read in novels. He sat down. ” “They know you better,” he declared. When she finally did take her own lover, it was not with a member of the household staff. So he goes out with girls from his group instead of me. Tell me about your island. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes.
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