I was just like a sort of dummy that does things as it is told—that is to say, as the strings are pulled. You shall not take me alive. “I suppose a girl MUST be underpaid and sweated,” said Ann Veronica. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. Thames did not try to cheer her. It was a charming sight to watch the motions of her tiny fingers as she pursued her task; and though the posture she adopted was not the most favourable that might have been chosen for the display of her sylphlike figure, there was something in her attitude, and the glow of her countenance, lighted up by the mellow radiance of the setting sun falling upon her through the panes of the little dormer-window, that seemed to the youth inexpressibly beautiful. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames.
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