She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. There was something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation which puzzled her. Turning now, and running down the terrace. Miss Garvice repeated again, and almost in the same words she used at every discussion, her contribution to the great question.
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