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. Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face. This vessel is now in the river, off Wapping. “I just wanted you to see that the time will come when I must leave you, and the time is coming soon. And on Monday and Tuesday she had failed to find him here. Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. Take it, I tell you. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped.
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