She seemed to have no idea whatever of the emotional states that were becoming to her age and position. She got up, put the neat cuffs she had made into her work-basket, and went to the bureau for the little cards in the morocco case. Do you remember your first day with me?. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. ‘It is pretty. What was the objection? She found it impossible to look her own diffidence in the face. She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. Martin came to the stage from his section, his own violin in hand. The skies became brilliant; the dry monsoon was setting in.
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