She was alone, and the mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside. He had removed his silk hat, and now sat looking at Ann Veronica over an untouched cup of tea; he sat gloating upon her, trying to catch her eye. It isn’t because you’re good, but because I may be rotten bad; and there’s something—something living and understanding in you. ’ ‘With ease, mademoiselle,’ he countered, catching her blade.
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