He had absorbed her in a single glance, and was now defining her as he worked. “You were born for great things,” he said huskily. ” “But don’t you see how I must stand to you? Don’t you see how it bars us from being lovers—You can’t—at first. In a moment or two, Madame Valade recovered her sangfroid. Ann Veronica passed from her aunt to her father, and put her arms about him and kissed his cheek. The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet.
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