She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. Or, if this goodlooking young fellow will only say the word, I'll go with him. “But what can one do?” asked Ann Veronica. The little pucker in her brows became more perceptible. "At length, I have my wish," continued Mrs. "Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely. Good-bye. I have something that weighs heavily upon my mind.
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