Wood turned to look at him. His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white. Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. ’ ‘Now that’s where you’re wrong. So far as I'm concerned, nothing could please me more. She tolerated spitballs in her curly hair and had to buy a new backpack when hers was stolen.
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