But perhaps if people didn’t like clear, bright, healthy eyes—which is biologically understandable—they couldn’t like precious stones. ’ Then she came closer and put her hand on his chest so that it rested on the braid that decorated his scarlet coat. Gazing at her with eyes blinded with tears, he imprinted one brotherly kiss upon her lips. She knew it. Perhaps the day of her recompense was at hand. What Miss Miniver would have called the Higher Truth supervenes. “Annabel,” she said brusquely. A granddaughter of mine!’ The idiocy of this notion stuck in his craw and he could think of nothing else for a moment. ” “And mine,” murmured his companion, with the smile still lingering upon his lips.
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