It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. And, anyhow, it doesn’t matter to us. ” Anna had reached the house where she lodged, but she hesitated on the doorstep. ” Ann Veronica agreed, and tried to make the manner of her assent cover a possible knowledge of a probable poem. There was only one clean spot in the picture—the ship's wash (all white) that fluttered on a line stretched between the two masts.
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