A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. “Well, I don’t want you to talk to him,” he said, very firmly. “I wish that I could forget it,” he said. Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately. I pray, Anna, that you may find your happiness. .
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