” “As one friend to another. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. He was a wonderful little creature with a perfect tiny face, mottled pink cheeks, and eyes brighter than May. " "And who is its mother?" asked Jonathan, in an eager whisper. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. . "You forgot your lunch," she said. 4. " "Wood's daughter, I suppose?" observed the other. He was not a sailor.
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