For a time Ann Veronica’s attention was diverted by her aunt’s interest in the salted almonds. ‘That is very sensible, mon capitaine. What about them?” He called a hansom. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. “Are you in the Service?” She asked him.
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