The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. The man pulled up. ’ ‘Indeed?’ said Gerald, surprised. But they found him on the veranda when they returned from McClintock's that evening. Don’t you think that the shade of my hair is lovely?” “There is nothing particular the matter with the shade,” Anna answered, “but it is not nearly so becoming as before you touched it. It was that somebody had cheated you. “That is as you will,” she said.
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