Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. "One of us has got to die," he panted. Her fingers were bursting through her gloves, as if to get at once into touch with Ann Veronica. " "But that's the point—I don't know. ’ ‘She told you!’ ‘And,’ pursued Gerald, ignoring his friend’s scornful interjection, ‘that it was not always convenient to be dressed as a young girl.
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