“You are not boring me,” she said, “but I would rather talk of something else. She shrank from him as he gripped her hand more forcibly. ” She shrugged her shoulders and led him towards a small recess. The little room was fragrant with flowers, Anna herself bright, and with all the evidences of well being. She could accord her father with one grace: he was not in any manner a hypocrite. The eyes left him, searching beside the chair for her cane. Wood, was much better furnished with eatables than might have been expected, and boasted a loaf, a knuckle of ham, a meat-pie, and a flask of wine. The man himself was not a pleasant object. "Come along, my sly shaver.
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