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. You don’t deserve it, but he does. “Please forgive me, Lucy. I’m afraid I’m a terribly clumsy fellow. " CHAPTER XIV. Certainly I never met him. That ring manifestly occupied her thoughts a great deal. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them.
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