Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. "I have not many days,—perhaps, not many hours to live. Please to let me go there. Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth. "It was the story of a man, so to speak, who had left his vitals in his native land and wandered strange paths emptily. He could not tell by the look of her whether she was glad or sorry that presently she would be free.
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