Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. She took refuge in beating her pillow and inventing insulting epithets for herself. His blood would be sweet with it. " "Are you a nurse?" "Yes. ‘Though we might have done, if a certain addlepated clothhead hadn’t let her get away.
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