His patient was distinctly of a different order of life. ‘What am I looking for?’ ‘A miniature. Save us!" he cried, as his glance accidentally alighted on the drawing, which Winifred had dropped in her agitation. 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. She took it for granted Ann Veronica wore stays—mild stays, perhaps, but stays, and thought no more of the matter. Manning. I might as well be at Morningside Park.
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