A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. She was never violent when angry: she became as calm and baffling as the sea in doldrums. "Good work. “For one thing, Anna,” she remarked, “we had not the slightest idea that you had left, or were leaving Paris. . Like carpenter, like chips.
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