The thought did not occur to her, for all thought had flown out of her head. ” “He only heard this afternoon,” Sydney continued. She had animated dark blue-gray eyes under her fine eyebrows, and dark brown hair that rolled back simply and effectively from her broad low forehead. Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. The man who sat behind a pigeon-hole, and regulated the comings and goings, was for a moment absent.
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