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. And you talk like that! What the devil have you been up to, to land in this bog?" It was a cast at random. There were menacing possibilities; the thought of them set him a-tremble. Either she had been seen, or they were seeking the air.
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