Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. Her features are the same, yet the change has written its mark into her face. " "I will, when I've had my revenge," muttered Jack. \"I saw you walking down the street with someone, Lucy. Tell me how you are earning your living here, Anna—typewriting, or painting, or lady’s companion?” “I think,” Anna said, “that the less you know about me the better.
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