Good looks, with a melancholy cast, always drew sentimental females. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. Her head dangled unnaturally for an instant, unleashed from its moorings, then sank to join her husband’s on the floor. He would have to sit down here in Canton and wait, perhaps for weeks. “Anna!” he exclaimed hoarsely. I deserve pretty much what I’ve got. Most of my people are upstairs dressing for dinner.
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