Don’t you think that the shade of my hair is lovely?” “There is nothing particular the matter with the shade,” Anna answered, “but it is not nearly so becoming as before you touched it. Old thoughts, old feelings, old faces, and old scenes have returned to me, and I have fancied myself happy,—as happy as I am now. I cannot explain beyond that. She became aware that at regular intervals a light flashed upon her face and a bodiless eye regarded her, and this, as the night wore on, became a torment. “Monsieur would dine! It was very good! And Madame, of course?” with a low bow. You will do as I say, or—’ ‘Hoy!’ called Trodger from down the hall.
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