. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. She had in her suitcase a small scrapbook, only a few pages, what little information she had gathered on him through the years. “How do you know—why do you think that my name is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way.
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