One swift glance about the room, and a sensation of grim foreboding swept through him. His complexion was pale; and there was something sinister in the expression of his large black eyes. You represented to us the immaculate Briton, the one Englishman who typified the Saxonism, if I may coin a word, of our race. He opened the door for her with a faint disagreeable smile. “Anna! What tragedy has happened, little sister? No lights, no supper, no coffee —and, above all, no Mr. It was a look that accorded very well with the hayloft setting that had come to mind. And now the fiend Gosse had taken even that away from her.
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