“But you yourself,” she exclaimed, glancing into his face, “you too look tired. Then his tiny bow mouth opened into an adoring smile. Kneebone, Mrs. “I had a faint idea once that things were as you say they are, but the affair of the ring—of the unexpected ring—puzzled me. Considering his convictions he felt that his remark was a generous one. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. . 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. “Aunt!” she said, “I can’t—” Then she caught a wild appeal in her aunt’s blue eye, halted, and the door clicked upon them.
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