I suspect he has a bit of vanity. Superstition—you knock into it whichever way you turn. Her patience was waning fast. Anna said nothing. ‘He prayeth best who loveth best—all things both great and small. I’m sorry to hurt your feelings. ” He put his hands in his pockets, his mouth puckered to a whistle, and he went to the door of the outer preparation-room and stood there, looking, save for the faintest intensification of his natural ruddiness, the embodiment of blond serenity. The figure of the girl upon it in plain black dress, standing with her hands behind her, was an undeniable and astonishing likeness of herself.
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