“Forgive my coming in,” she said to Ennison. Anna thrust hers into her pocket unopened, and for the first time left the house without a smile upon her face. “Who wouldn’t be for you?” The train began to move. “You needn’t be anxious about that! I shall contrive to live. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. " "By my soul, no," replied Jonathan, with affected sincerity.
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