Her words, as she said them, seemed to her to mean nothing, and there was so much that struggled for expression. She was dressed as a white woman should be; and that for the present satisfied her instincts. A cool gray light illuminated small portions of the stone floor. To be complete, my vengeance must be tardy. He had said so. Miss Annabel is her sister. “Damn!” said Ann Veronica to herself, rousing herself for a conflict. Her hair got loose, her hat came over one eye, and she had no arm free to replace it. But it was the form of her ruling determination; it was the only form that she ever allowed to see daylight.
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