Still he looked hale and hearty, and the country life he led had imparted a ruddier glow to his cheek. “Called myself Anna,” the girl repeated coolly. But something instinctive prevented that, and with the finest resolve not to be “silly” and prudish she found that whenever he became at all bold in this matter she became severely scientific and impersonal, almost entomological indeed, in her method; she killed every remark as he made it and pinned it out for examination. He lost control of the machine.
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