A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. Her aunt had a once exasperating habit of interrupting her work with demands for small household services, but now Ann Veronica rendered them with a queer readiness of anticipatory propitiation. At this juncture, and just as a cuckoo-clock in the corner struck sis, Jack Sheppard walked into the room, with the packing-case under his arm. "How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone. A dozen books lay upon the counterpane. Their soft, voluptuous bodies wove among each other to the faint notes of a lyre. " And springing backwards, he darted suddenly through the door. Anna glanced into her sister’s face, and rose to her feet. The shape of the head, the height and breadth of the brow, the angle of the nose, the cut of the chin and jaws, all were fine, of a type she had never before looked upon closely.
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