" "I'm a queer girl," she replied with a smile. This was no light conquest; nor was it a government easily maintained. 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. “I don’t care what any one thinks,” said Ann Veronica. She stood on the mat instead, and looked down on him. She fixed her brilliant eyes upon him. The signs of tears had all gone, but some subtle change seemed to have stolen into her face. "There he is!" cried Winifred, starting up, joyfully, and proving by the exclamation that her thoughts were dwelling upon one subject only. "An idea has just occurred to me," said Gay, "which Jack's narrative has suggested. Not daring, however, to listen to it, he ran on.
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