They were a dull grey, but the dark frizzed hair that framed her face was attractive. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. “I wish you didn’t. ” “It is very nice of you to think of it,” Anna said briskly. From the further end of the apartment came the low music of a violin.
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