Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. ” “Then condemn me to Hell. She struggled fiercely not to give way. For a few minutes all was silent. You creep around in a nun’s habit, peering into a private ballroom.
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