She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. Her aunt had secretly sent on to Ann Veronica some new warm underclothing, a dozen pairs of stockings, and her last winter’s jacket, but the dear lady had overlooked those boots. Let her see if she could manage this one, perhaps turn all to suit herself? ‘What do you think to do with me now?’ The captain lowered the pistol. Until he felt a sharpness digging into his coat at the point of his heart. Be so good as to come this way. I ought never to have thought of it. I'm crazy over music, too.
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