His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. Behind them stalked Blueskin, enveloped in a rough great-coat, called—appropriately enough in this instance,—a wrap-rascal. ” Ann Veronica looked at the mildly pensive gray eyes and the comfortable, rather refined face with a penetrating curiosity. Fame of any sort was folly and she knew better.
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