. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered. ” He shook her diminutive hand. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache. On the other hand the two young men who sat on either side of Anna were already throwing murderous glances at the newcomer. He looked exactly as she had dreamed him, handsome, rigidly dressed in a black suit, his hair still half gray, his eyes green and flashing like a cat’s.
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