With a rustle of her full lilac petticoats, Miss Froxfield turned back to Alderley. Don’t you think that the shade of my hair is lovely?” “There is nothing particular the matter with the shade,” Anna answered, “but it is not nearly so becoming as before you touched it. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. But seriously ——” “Well seriously?” “Isn’t it your own fault a little? Why do you not tell me your address, and allow me to call upon you.
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