His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. Ennison, or any other young man. “You see,” said Ann Veronica, staring before her at the window-sash, “that’s the form my question takes at the present time.
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