“I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous professionalism creeping into her voice. There was something which chilled even him in the cold impassivity of her features. His back was no sooner turned, than she slipped this casket into the box. I must go and dress at once. I shouldn't care to express an opinion. Beneath the hood it was evident that her rebellious hair was bound up with red silk, and fastened by some device in her ears (unless she had them pierced, which was too dreadful a thing to suppose!) were long brass filigree earrings.
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